Differences in Love
by HPslashSPNLuver92
Summary: AU, OOC, SLASH. Slavery is legal. Small differences lead people to this life. Hidden from the cruel world all this time, a newly captured Different One will have to find his way through the hardness of this side of society. Eventual Sam/Dean and MPreg.
1. Captured

**ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER: Every content, character, plot etc. that anyone is able to recognize as other's property is NOT mine. I have no intention to get into any trouble involving law and money.**

**ULTIMATE WARNING: So far most of my stories are turning out to be SLASH and MPREG. So they may contain mature, Male/Male Relationship and not so graphic sex scenes between two men. If you can't stand these or don't want to read them, please leave this story behind!**

**AU, OOC. Slavery.**

**Hey, guys! This is the story you voted for. The title is not that good... I mean it's good, but it could have been better. My brain wasn't cooperating with me. :(**

**Anyway, I hope you will like this story. Enjoy reading the chapter!**

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><p><em>Chapter 1: Captured<em>

The harsh rays of the sun were just barely peeking out from the blanket of the clouds. Despite being late June, a cold wind blew across the houses of Sioux Falls. Outside the town, in the middle of a field sat a smaller two-story house. The turquoise painting cracked off already, giving the house a worn look, the shutters of the windows were unclean, the dirt covering up the pure white painting. The lawn was unkempt; the yard was sandy and cracked. People would think, not a living soul would voluntarily live in this place, but the worn Ford on the driveway said the opposite.

Inside, the wallpapers were slowly peeling off the wooden covering of the wall, its flowery pattern covered in dirt; some of it had holes, as the paper thinned with time. The house was almost empty, just the basic furniture present. The only exception was the living room: the whole area was filled with old books. You could find it on the shelves, on the table, some of the collection on the chairs, and one or two even lying on the floor. The room itself had a huge casement-window with a beautiful view of the outside world. Even though the yard wasn't in order, the mere sight of nature could make the heart feel at peace and harmony.

One of the occupants of this place was thinking along those lines, as he gazed out that window. Samuel Singer was sitting on a sofa-bed with a book in his lap. The twenty-year-old had been musing about his life for a while now, his attention drifting away from the book he chose to read this morning. His hazel-green eyes were glancing into the nothingness, a soft longing sigh breaking out of his lungs.

It was almost ten years ago that he and his father, Robert Singer moved here with no reason. At least Sam didn't know the reason for the sudden change. His father just picked him up from his room, threw him into the oldest car they owned, the Ford that was standing outside, then after tossing their bags into the trunk, they left their mansion as quickly as you can say: 'Move!' Sam tried to pry the truth out of his father from time to time, but the old man wouldn't budge. Once his father got so mad that Sam knew Bobby was a hair's breadth away from slapping him, but instead he just sent him into his room.

Sam turned back to his book with another sigh. His father was in the town on his usual supply run, giving his son strict orders not to leave the house. The boy could barely step out of his prison; Bobby even hired a friend of his to home-school his son. Sam didn't understand why his father keeps him locked up and when he asked about it, Bobby only replied with a gruff 'Protection.' and the topic was dismissed. Could it be that his father was ashamed of him? Sam was in his early teens when he found out he was different. But Bobby always said he was special and that he was proud of him and Sam saw the sincerity in his light-blue eyes and in the brilliant smile Bobby gave him every single time.

Sam sighed sadly; he was glad his father cared about him this much, but he started to feel lonely. And he had this bad habit to want to know everything. But the boy knew that this topic was painful for his father, so he always backed away from it, for the sake of the man. He was about to return to his book, when the front door slammed open then shut close forcefully. Sam jumped from his place just as his father stormed into the living room with a worn duffel bag.

"Pack your stuff!" Bobby ordered hurriedly and started to shove things into the bag.

"Dad, what's going on?" Sam asked confused and a little terrified. It was just like ten years ago, with a tiny difference: Sam was now too tall, taller than his father, for Bobby to get his son in his arms and throw him into the car.

"There's no time! Come on, move it!" Bobby rushed out and moved to the table.

"Dad, please, you're scaring me…" Sam started, his voice trembling slightly, but his father cut him off with a shout:

"I said MOVE IT!"

Sam stepped back from shock then quickly hurried away, getting his jacket on the way.

Bobby was running around the house like a chicken with its head cut off. It can't happen! They had to get away, before _they_ found them! As he was emptying the drawers of the table, he heard a soft noise next to him.

"You packed up?" he asked, thinking it was his son. But he was wrong.

The cocking of a gun made him freeze. _No, please…_

"Mr. Singer" came a deep, official-sounding voice. Bobby looked towards the source. A clean-shaved, stern face gazed back at him with a hard stare. The man was in a suit, representing the authorities. Bobby knew now that he was late.

"Who are you?" he asked, ignoring the gun trained at his head by a police officer.

"My name is Balthazar Graven" the man in the suit replied in a slight British accent. "I'm sure you know why we're here."

"Where's my son?" Bobby growled at the blonde man, whose brown eyes showed some sympathy despite his cruel tone. Graven nodded at the officer, who let out a harsh whistle. Soon sounds of struggle floated into the room, its source being the staircase, then two more orderlies stepped in with Sam between them. The boy's mouth was covered with duct tape and his hands were tied in front of him, the orderlies held onto him firmly, as the young man tried to shake them off. Bobby's face fell and he was not far from bursting into tears, seeing his dear boy in such a state. Sam looked up at him with fear and confusion, letting out a pathetic whine, begging his father for an explanation.

"You know hiding a Different One is a serious act against the law, Mr. Singer" Graven spoke up, his voice soft, but firm. Bobby sent the man a death glare but stayed silent. "But" Graven continued, "we're willing to make an exception in your case. Seeing as you're a member of the upper classes and have very much influence in the government's decisions, we're inclined to let you off the hook. However, you have to give your son to the authorities willingly…"

"If you even think I'll give my boy to you on a silver platter, you're…" Bobby was cut off by Sam's scared whine, causing the older man to look at his son. Sam was shaking his head, pleading to his father with his eyes not to do anything stupid. Bobby looked at his precious, beautiful boy, who almost grew up to a fine young man, but he still needed some polishing in his opinion. But as he stared into those hazel-green eyes that the boy inherited from his deceased mother, Bobby saw that it wasn't needed. His baby boy was already a man. Sam nodded a bit in encouragement and Bobby grudgingly agreed to his decision.

"I'm sorry" he whispered. Sam nodded, a tear rolling down his face. Bobby turned to Graven. "Can I say goodbye at least?"

"Make it quick!" Graven answered without hesitation. Bobby hurried to his boy and cradled his face in both of his hands.

"You'll be alright, son" he murmured to him shakily, as he caressed the chestnut-brown locks. "Just do as they say and you won't be harmed, alright?" Sam just nodded rapidly as the weight of the situation finally registered in his mind. "I'm gonna find you someday, okay? We're gonna meet again." Sam let out a small sob at that but nodded. "I promise you that we meet again." All of a sudden the two orderlies yanked Sam away from his father and started to drag him out of the house. "I love you, son!" Bobby cried after him and heard Sam's answering cry from the front door.

"I'm sorry" Graven said honestly. "But rules are rules, Mr. Singer." With that he left the house, leaving Bobby alone. The older man collapsed into a chair and grieved his son with loud, harsh sobs.

Sam shook from fear as he was dragged away from the house to a big truck. Before they reached the vehicle, though, he was plunged in darkness: the third orderly pulled a small sack onto his head. The rope around his arms loosened, his limbs were pulled behind his back and his wrists were tied together again. Finally he was thrown into the back of the truck and his ankles were crossed and tied together, too. After two slams of the backdoors and then a few slams of other car doors, the truck's engine revved to life and they started moving. Sam finally let go of his tears, knowing that he possibly will never see his father again.

_TBC_

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><p><strong>So, how was it? Good start? I'm proud with the beginning scene with our Sammy in it. He's so sweet there. :)<strong>

**Sadie is already excited about the next chapter. And you, guys?**

**Read and review! They keep the story going. :) See you soon (hopefully)!**


	2. Preparations

**ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**ULTIMATE WARNING IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**AU, OOC. Kinda graphic.**

**Okay, guys, the moment I was waiting for. Or more like chapter. Sadie loves me for this one, that's why I could write so much fluff in TUTM.**

**I will post the URL of Sammy in my profile. I actually found a picture where Jared had shorter hair. YAY! Don't get me wrong, I'm in LOVE with his long locks, he looks sexier like that -drools- but he was unbelievably cute back then!**

**I saw Season 7's first episode! YAYYYY! -happy dancing- Ah, finally, a dream come true for a sadist... :D**

**Alright! Enjoy the chappy!**

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><p><em>Chapter 2: Preparations<em>

Sam was awakened by the slowing movement of the truck; they arrived to their destination. He started shaking: what's going to happen to him? Why is he even here? What the hell is going on? The backdoors of the truck opened and rough hands pulled him out and up, his ankles were released from their bindings. Sam whimpered fearfully and tried to pull himself away from the people holding him, to no avail. The sack was pulled from his head and he had to blink at the brightness. When his vision got back to normal, he saw a massive building in front of him. In huge golden letters he saw the name of the institution:

_**STATE INSTITUTION OF NATIONAL SLAVE-TRADE**_

_'Slave-trade?'_ Sam thought shocked. The two orderlies from before, started to pull him towards the building. As they got closer, Sam noticed a plaque on the wall next to the entrance:

_**Evansville, Indiana**_

_**United States of America**_

They stepped into the entrance hall that was decorated beautifully. It seemed that this institution was well-maintained, probably for popularization. Sam was dragged through a heavy wooden door and to what looked like a reception desk.

"Newbie?" came a gruff voice from an officer sitting at the desk.

"Yes" the orderly to Sam's left answered. "This morning."

The orderly grabbed the telephone and started dialing. Sam fearfully looked around.

They were standing in a smaller room that was plainly decorated, not worthy of attention. What caught his eyes, though, was the huge iron door that occupied the wall from ground to ceiling.

"Alright" the orderly put down the phone. "Take him!"

Sam was pulled towards the iron door that started to open up. His eyes widened at what greeted him, when they stepped in.

The enormous room was full with giant cages that were inhabited by people. Their clothes were worn and simple: the men had sweatpants and the women had shirts as well. There were no kids, thankfully, but Sam had a guess that they were in a different place, if there were kids at all in the institution. There was a smaller side-door on the right, where he was dragged right now. The people in the cages, probably slaves, too, looked at the newcomer with curiosity. However, they couldn't look at him for too long, because Sam was quickly escorted into a room through the side door.

Sam saw Graven in there, but the man left the suits behind; he wore black slacks, a grey cotton shirt with a V-neck and a black coat. As the trio stopped in front of the man, one orderly ripped the duct tape off Sam's mouth, who cried out from the pain.

"Strip him down!" Graven ordered. Sam felt the rope loosen from his wrists then his jacket, shirt and T-shirt were ripped off of him. The boy saw Graven pick up a pair of scissors.

"No, please…" Sam pleaded frightened. The two orderlies grabbed his arms and started to pull him towards Graven, but he started struggling violently.

"NO! NO! PLEASE!" he screamed and tried to get away from the man.

"ENOUGH!" Graven's voice boomed in the room. Sam started crying softly in the silence. Graven slowly stepped closer to the boy, hiding the scissors behind him. "Why are you fighting now?" he asked.

"Not my hair… Please, not my hair…" Sam begged gasping.

"Just to ease your fear" Graven started, "we have a reputation to keep up. We are the best and most renowned institution in the whole United States. We can't just exhibit some filthy peasants in dirty clothes and shaved head. Did you see a person with bald head outside?" Sam shook his head shakily, tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. "Your hair is too long now, but it will be cut down to give you a little elegance. But it won't be much shorter than this" Graven muttered as he examined the boy's face. "We are the most humane institution in the whole world. You can consider yourself lucky." With that Graven stepped back to a chair and waved at the orderlies. Sam was dragged to the chair and pushed down into it. They strapped his wrists on the arms of the chair, even though Sam surrendered in the matter.

Graven expertly snipped away at his hair and after a few short minutes they were done. Sam felt the slight change in his looks, but knew Graven told him the truth.

"Clean him up!" came the next order. Sam was untied and dragged away to a little shower room. The orderlies shoved him into one cubicle, up against the tiles. Sam's jeans and boxers were pulled down, leaving him naked and vulnerable. His back was towards the orderlies, so he cried out from surprise, when he was struck hard with two buckets of ice-cold water. The coldness wracked his nerves with shivers and to his mortification his body reacted to them: it voided his bladder.

"Turn him around!" he heard Graven's new order. A rough hand made him turn and two more buckets of water was poured on him. Sam started gasping and coughing from the pressure of the flood; his knees buckled from the violent shivers wracking his body, sending him onto the ground. All of a sudden two towels started scrubbing him, their force reddening his pale skin. After they dried him, a pair of sweatpants was tossed into his face.

"Put it on!" came the hard voice of the orderly. Sam slowly obeyed; luckily they waited patiently until he managed his task with shaking fingers. When he finished, he was pulled up and his hands were thrust forward. Opening his eyes he saw an orderly putting a leather strap around his wrists. Tugging on it, the leather painfully cuffed his hands together. The man attached a leash on it and started to lead Sam out of the room, the other orderly following them from behind.

The trio made its way through the cages towards the opposite end of the room, from where they came in. Sam looked around attentively. The inhabitants of the cages stepped forward to take a curious look at the newbie. The cages were big enough for a grizzly bear and three or four individual occupied each of them. If Sam should make an estimate, he would say there are at least two hundred slaves in this room. The place itself was wide and high and, fortunately, the cages weren't crowded at all. His eyes caught an empty area with a smaller stage on it. Judging by the chairs in front of it, Sam guessed that this area was for auctions.

He was startled from his musings by a firm push on his shoulder.

"Move!" the orderly said behind him. Sam immediately quickened his pace, keeping up with his guards. Soon they arrived at a desk where Graven was sitting. The man stood up and looked him over. As Sam stared at him, a hard slap landed on his cheek, tipping him out of his balance.

"Leave him alone!" Graven ordered. "He hasn't learned the rules yet."

Sam carefully stumbled back to his place, waiting terrified for anything. Graven stepped in front of him with a hard stare.

"Now the ground rules" he started. "First and foremost, slaves are not allowed to look into the eyes of their superiors." Sam quickly lowered his eyes to the ground and he caught Graven's approving nod. "If someone buys them, they are obliged to call them by the titles: _'Master'_ or _'Mistress'_. Others have to be called _'sir'_ or _'miss'_. And the last ground rule is: a slave doesn't speak until they are given permission and are spoken to. Understand?"

Sam was confused. What counts as permission? Does this count? Is he allowed to speak?

"Understand?" Graven raised his voice, unconsciously helping the boy in his decision.

"Yes, sir" Sam replied immediately in a soft voice.

"Repeat it!" Graven ordered.

"I mustn't look into the eyes of my superiors. I must call my Master or Mistress by the titles: Master or Mistress. Others I must call sir or miss. I mustn't speak until I'm allowed and am spoken to."

"Brilliant" Graven praised a bit surprised. Sam guessed he was the head of this institution and has the best interest of the inhabitants, on the level of the slaves, of course. "Now" the man continued, "if you disobey an order or the rules, you will be punished. The degree of your punishment equals the seriousness of your act against the rules and orders. These are made by your Master or Mistress. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent" Graven stepped away. He sat down behind the desk and got a paper and a pen. "Your name?"

"Samuel Singer, sir" Sam answered dutifully. His father would be proud of him. The thought brought tears into his eyes, so he quickly emptied his mind.

"What skills do you have?" Graven asked.

"It depends on the definition of skills, sir" Sam answered politely.

"Hm, highly educated" Graven murmured to himself and wrote something on the paper. "Let's go through the list one by one. Cooking?"

"No, sir."

"Maintenance?"

"No, sir."

"Gardening?"

"No, sir."

"Maintenance of order?"

"No, sir."

"Food serving?"

"Not really, sir."

"What do you mean by that?" Graven asked curiously.

"I'm fairly clumsy, sir."

"Well, you're one hard nut to crack" Graven murmured with a smirk. "What about cleaning?"

"Yes, sir."

"Brilliant" Graven checked the appropriate option on the paper and signed it at the foot of the page. He got a little nametag from a box with a number engraved on it. He attached it to a dark-brown leather collar and gave it to one of the guards, who considerably gently put it around Sam's neck. Sensing the boy's humiliation, Graven spoke up:

"This is just temporary, until someone buys you, but necessary, so we can inform the clients of your abilities.

"Yes, sir" Sam replied shakily, as he tried to gather himself together.

"Alright" Graven stood up. "This way" he said to the orderlies and led the trio to a cage. In there was a woman and two big, bulky men. Graven opened the cage and took the leash from the orderly, escorting Sam behind the bars. Detaching the leash, the man stepped out of the cage and shut the entrance, locking it with a padlock.

"For now, the strap stays on him until he learns his place" he said to the orderlies and left. Sam was frozen in place, wary of his cellmates. After a few moments he started to walk towards the other end of the cage, but one of the bulky men spoke up mockingly:

"Ooh, looky, looky. Newbie in town."

"What a nice piece of meat, eh, mate?" the other one chortled amused.

"Thanks to these nice pieces of meat I'm rotting in this fucking place" growled the first one and shoved Sam hard into the bars of the cage. The boy whimpered frightened, as he collapsed then startled, when the entrance of the cage slammed open.

"That's enough, Burt!" a guard shouted. "You're going!"

Sam didn't dare to look up, so he crouched into the edge of the cage, burying his head in his arms. After a brief struggle, the guard spoke again:

"If there's one more assault like this, Dirk, you're going next!"

"Yeah, boss" the second man, Dirk replied. After the echo of the door's slam died away, a smaller hand touched Sam's arm, causing the boy to startle and whimper.

"Shh" a silky, kind voice hushed him. It had to be the woman. "Calm down. You're okay. What's your name, sweetie?"

"S-S-Samuel" he whispered scared to death.

"What a strong name" the woman replied as she stroked his shoulder. "I'm Sylvia. Can I call you Sam?" Sam gave a minute nod. "Hey, don't let those idiots get to you! They're just a bunch of pigs" Sylvia said with a chuckle. Sam lifted his head a bit, so he could peek out with one eye. The woman was older than Sam by a few years, her azure eyes showing tenderness and wisdom. Her auburn hair reached her shoulders in slightly disheveled waves.

"Sylvia!" a guard called out. The woman immediately jumped to her feet and bowed her head. "He's alright?"

"A little bit frightened, sir" Sylvia replied. "But he will be fine."

"Take care of him!"

"Yes, sir. Gladly."

As the guard went to his rounds, Sylvia kneeled next to Sam again and laid a hand on the trembling shoulder.

"So" she started, "why did they bring you here?"

"'Cause 'm different" Sam mumbled on the verge of tears.

"Oh, sweetie" Sylvia sighed and wrapped her arm around the boy. Sam leaned against her side, so she could embrace him. "It'll be alright, hon'. Don't you worry!" Her heart broke into tiny little pieces as she felt quiet sobs shake the poor boy's body. She gently combed through the short, chestnut-brown tresses, noticing that they were freshly cut. Soon Sam calmed down some and pulled away with a weary hiccup that made Sylvia smile.

"W-Why are you h-here?" Sam asked wiping his eyes.

"I can't have children" Sylvia admitted quietly. Sam's eyes widened then he turned away embarrassed.

"'M sorry" he breathed, bowing his head in shame.

"It's okay. This place treats me and the slaves well. And I'm gonna be auctioned in the next month, and there's a family, who wants to buy me, no matter the cost."

"Will I be…?"

"It depends on how long you'll be in here" Sylvia replied honestly. "I heard you're good at cleaning."

"Yeah" Sam nodded. His father always left such a big mess after himself, even though he was an organized man. At the thought of his father, Sam wedged himself back into the corner and buried his face in his arms.

"Are you okay?" Sylvia asked worriedly and sighed sadly, when she didn't get an answer. "I'll leave you be." With a caress of the trembling shoulders she stood up, leaving the boy to his own thoughts.

_TBC_

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><p><strong>So, how was it? Not what you expected? Did you recognize Graven? I'm sure I gave a lot of info about him in here. But I could have gotten the material of his clothes wrong... I'm no expert...<strong>

**Anyway, Read and Review! They keep the story going. See you soon!**


	3. Welcome To Your New Life

**ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**ULTIMATE WARNING IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**AU, OOC.**

**Hey, guys! Here's the next chapter.**

**I'm warning you now, that I tend to use same actors in different stories. This is going for Mark and Alex. Mark is like Kyle from the story Jade (picture in profile), and Alex is like Dan Radcliffe. Hope you don't mind! I just don't know too much young and handsome actors to use.**

**Finally, hope you like my new characters. Alright, have fun!**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><em>Chapter 3: Welcome To Your New Life<em>

Days slowly, but surely passed the institution. Sam could witness one of the auctions that took place just next to his cage, considerately avoiding eye-contact, of course; he didn't want to get into trouble. However, exhibitions were organized more often. Clients came from all around the United States to look at and browse from the slaves. Sam could only watch the event, though; he hadn't been exhibited yet.

The guards gave them three meals a day: smaller breakfasts and dinners, bigger lunches. Sylvia told him that the exhibitions usually take place in the afternoon and they need to be well-fed for it, that's why they gave them more food for lunch. At first Sam had a little trouble with eating, because his hands were still strapped together, but he quickly learned the trick.

To Sam's utter relief the bulky guy, Burt haven't returned yet from where he was escorted and it turned out that Dirk was a considerably good company. He would tell him and Sylvia various stories, making them laugh. Despite the good treatment, Sam couldn't help but think about what will happen to him. Because of his constant fear of the unknown and the bad thoughts that assaulted his mind, his shaking became continuous.

And then after two weeks since he was captured, he was called into the next exhibition.

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><p>The time of the event was a weekday, so not many people attended it. So far everyone just took a look at him then stepped away, not finding in him what they looked for. He was standing there unmoving, frozen in place except his shaking, waiting for someone to approach him and trying not to have a panic attack. It felt like hours have passed, when Graven's voice reached his ears:<p>

"Ah, Ramon! What a pleasure to see you here! Your Master wants to buy a new slave?"

"Yes, Mr. Graven" answered a deep voice. Sam looked at the source out of the corner of his eyes. The man, Ramon was Latin-American from his looks: black, curly hair framing his oval-shaped face, his skin golden-brown, his eyes the deepest brown pools Sam have ever seen.

"Well, look around, boy!" Graven exclaimed proudly. _That Master must be a really good client,_ Sam thought. He was silently waiting for something to happen, when all of a sudden Ramon stepped in front of him.

"Mr. Graven" the man called out. Graven immediately appeared beside him. "Who is he?"

"Well, Ramon" Graven started, "he's one of the newbies. He got here two weeks ago, his father was hiding him."

"Can I have a name?" Ramon's voice held a bit of annoyance, which was meant to be hidden, but not from Sam's ears. The boy agreed with the man; in exhibitions the usually kind-hearted Graven turned into a typical salesman.

"Samuel Singer."

"Strong name" Ramon murmured to himself. "His build is, too. And not a bad catch. His skills?"

"Just cleaning" Graven answered. "He's from the upper-classes. He's well-educated, though, and extremely polite. A few days ago he started to thank the guards for the food they gave him. And he's always catching up quite fast."

Sam felt Ramon's fingers grasp his jaw and tilt his head up, so he quickly closed his eyes to avoid looking in the other's gaze. Ramon turned the boy's head to both sides then released it.

"Does he have any illness?"

"Gathered from his medical records, no" the answer caused Ramon to slightly narrow his eyes.

"What color is your eye, Samuel?" the man asked. Sam was surprised by the question, but answered dutifully:

"H-Hazel-green, sir."

Sam caught that Ramon turned his head towards the entrance, but he didn't see a man standing there, reciprocating the look as he sent a sign to his servant by brushing some dust from the pocket of his jacket.

"Alright, Mr. Graven" Ramon spoke up. "I decided. My Master wants him. How much does he cost?"

"Since he's young and a little inexperienced" Mr. Graven started, "I think, he's worth 5,000 dollars."

Sam noticed that Ramon stretched his lowered hand into a five and he frowned at that. What could he be doing?

"4,500 dollars and no more or the deal is off" Ramon replied firmly. Maybe he was signing to his Master?

"That's quite good" Mr. Graven agreed and shook Ramon's head. "Deal."

A guard clasped the leash onto the leather strap on Sam's wrists and gave the other end to Ramon.

"It's always a pleasure doing business with you, Ramon" Mr. Graven said happily.

"The feeling is mutual" Ramon nodded his goodbye and gently tugged on the leash, getting Sam to move. The boy obediently followed the man who led him out of the room. Ramon stopped at the reception desk and took the collar off of Sam's neck, handing it to the officer at the desk.

"Please, sign this!" the officer gave a paper to Ramon, who signed it with elegant letters. "Have a good day!"

"You too, officer!" with that Ramon left the building, with Sam in tow.

The man led the boy to a freshly-polished, sleek, black car and sat him in the backseat. Shutting the door Ramon turned towards the entrance to wait for his master. Sam bit his lip shyly then making a decision he knocked on the window.

"E-Excuse me, sir" he spoke as the door opened, not once raising his gaze.

"Yes?"

"C-Can I sleep here, until w-we get to the residence?" Sam didn't know what was wrong with him. Why is he shaking all the time?

"Of course, you can" Ramon answered. "Just lay down."

"T-Thank you, sir." When the door shut closed, Sam stretched out on the backseat and closed his eyes. Before he fell asleep, the driver side's door opened and closed, followed by the passenger's side.

"Is he okay?" a new voice asked quietly. He must be the Master! Sam's shaking increased a tiny bit.

"He asked me if he could sleep, sir" Ramon whispered. "I hope you don't mind it, sir."

"No, of course not." As the engine was revved into life, Sam slowly drifted away into dreamland.

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><p>"Hey, wake up!"<p>

Sam jumped at Ramon's voice and looked up. The sky had already bled into night, but the little amount of stars indicated that it wasn't that late in the evening.

"It's okay" Ramon hushed him. "We've just arrived."

Sam scrubbed at his eyes with trembling hands and got out of the car with Ramon's help. The boy needed a few minutes to realize that his hands were moving freely. He crossed his wrists and threaded his fingers in a sign of submission, when Ramon started to lead him towards the mansion. Sam carefully looked up to glance around.

The house was huge; Sam felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him, as he remembered his old home. The walls were pure white, on the top of the stairs the roof was held up by smaller Doric columns. The entrance door was beautifully carved from oak tree, decorated with black, iron design; the French windows' frames were as white as the walls. The stairs were white as well, the few steps leading to a perfectly floored parquet porch.

Before Sam could go up the stairs, Ramon stopped him at the bottom, next to a bucket of water. The man rinsed one of the clothes in the water and carefully lifted up the boy's feet. Sam quickly grasped the man's shoulder, willing his heart to slow down some from the scared staccatos it was beating. Ramon attentively dried his feet and placed them on the first step.

"You will get your own slippers in the morning" Ramon explained. "The Master doesn't like it if the parquet is dirty. You have to use the slippers outside."

"Y-Yes, sir."

"Call me Ramon" the man commented. "I'm not your superior."

"A-Alright."

The two of them went into the house; Sam's jaw fell open at the sight. The entrance hall was lit by candles, lighting up the cream-colored walls. The orange balls of the flames were dancing happily, reflected by the white Italian tiles. The grand staircase led up and to the sides to the next story, light-brown rug decorating the white steps; the railings were made from iron, painted in gold. Two doors led from here: a two-winged, cream-colored door to the left and a plain cream-colored door to the right.

"That one" Ramon pointed to the bigger door, "is the Great Ballroom. The Master organizes the bigger events there, such as a meeting or an official banquette. Sometimes there are parties, too, but they became rare. His meals are always served in the Dining Room next to it. But you will be shown around tomorrow morning."

With that they made their way to the smaller door.

"This leads to the Servant's Quarters" Ramon continued. "Here's the kitchen, the cellar, our sleeping quarter and a smaller bathroom just for us."

They stepped through the door and stopped at a closet. Ramon took a T-shirt out of it and handed it to Sam, who put it on.

"This closet has our personal belongings, which are mostly just clothes. The Master already arranged it, so that your clothes could be here before you arrived."

"E-Excuse me, s-sir!" Sam interrupted softly.

"Yes?"

"Y-You said 'our' a f-few times. Are there others h-here?" the boy asked, gazing at the floor.

"Yes" Ramon nodded. He started to get worried by the stutters. "Let me introduce them to you. I'm in charge of the servants here, but you don't have to call me sir."

The two of them made their way into the kitchen in the back of the house, where two servants stood, waiting for their arrival.

"Samuel" Ramon spoke up, waving one slave over. "This is Alex." Alex was a young man in the middle of his twenties, although that wasn't visible in his size. He had messy, ebony locks and azure eyes. "He is the head of the cooking department, alias the kitchen." Sam flashed a shy smile at the joke, while the others chuckled.

"Nice to meet you, Sam" he greeted the boy. His British accent was more pronounced than Mr. Graven's was. His slightly deep voice had a soothing affect on Sam's mind, but not on his nerves. He shook the outstretched hand with his own trembling one.

"G-Good evening" Sam whispered scared. Alex's brow furrowed from worry and confusion, but he stayed silent.

"And this is Mark" Ramon waved over the second young man. "He's working in the garden and helps me sometimes in the maintenance of the mansion.

"Hi" Mark was definitely American, with a slight twang of an accent, but Sam couldn't put his finger on which one. He had golden-blond hair and sky-blue eyes. He was a head taller than Alex and had a sun-kissed tan unlike Alex's pale skin. He was younger than Alex by a few months.

"G-Good evening" Sam shook Mark's hand, too.

"Why don't we wrap this day up and go to bed?" Ramon asked, catching the barely visible sway in Sam's posture. The others agreed and showed Sam his bed: a simple bed with a warm blanket, a fresh sheet and big, soft pillows. All of them slept in one room; Sam could hear the quiet snores and the inhales and exhales. But the calmness of the situation couldn't help him into sleep. It was in the wee hours of the morning when exhaustion finally destroyed the fort of his nerves, causing his shaking to increase in waves for a few minutes.

_TBC_

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><p><strong>So, how was it? Did you like the others?<strong>

**Hope you like the mansion! It was a pain to describe it. In the next chapter you will see the interior of the building.**

**Okay, see you soon!**


	4. Meet The Master

**ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**ULTIMATE WARNING IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**AU, OOC.**

**Hey, guys! I can surely say that this chapter has the moment everyone was waiting for.**

**I'm sorry for not answering to every reviews so far. School takes my time away. I'll try to catch up with them. But I really appreciate your reviews. Thank you!**

**So, let's get on with it! Enjoy!**

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><p><em>Chapter 4: Meet The Master<em>

The melody of chirps floated into the slaves' bedroom, when Sam woke up. He felt a wild shiver run through his body, but it went away as quickly as it came. He slowly started sitting up, scrubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Morning, Sam" he was startled by the foreign voice, but then his memory supplied the name: Mark.

"G-Good m-morning" he stuttered out, trying to get his heart to calm down. "M-May I ask w-what time it is?"

"It's half past eight" Mark answered stepping to the newbie's bed with a gentle smile. "Ramon let you sleep in now, but we usually wake up at seven to do the basics around the house: sweeping up the porch, washing up the dishes, if there are some leftovers and so on."

"W-Who did the cleaning b-before me?"

"It was me" Mark shrugged. "I have the skill for it, but I'm better at gardening. That's why the Master wanted another slave for cleaning. Anyway," Mark stepped to the door, "why don't you take a shower and get ready? I'm sure the Master would like to see you soon. Alex is already cooking his breakfast."

Sam nodded and when Mark left, he started to stand up. The process was slow-moving, as more wild shivers wracked his body. He went out to the hallway to the closet and got a shirt and sweatpants out then he went into the servants' bathroom to have a shower. When he was ready, he hesitantly stepped into the kitchen. He saw Alex at the stove, expertly making the breakfast. The luscious aroma of bacons wafted through the air in the whole room, but instead of making Sam's stomach growl out a pleading for food, the smell caused a slight nausea and a painful churn to it.

"Hey, Sam" Alex greeted him. "Sit down! I'm sure Ramon will be here soon to show you around." Sam silently obeyed, crossing his arms on the table and burying his head in them. After a few moments, Alex's small hand lay on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" the young man asked.

"I-I don't feel s-so good" Sam replied, turning his head towards the other man. Alex laid his other hand on the boy's forehead, worry clearly evident in his eyes.

"Well," the young man muttered "you don't have a fever. When was the last time you ate something?"

"Y-Yesterday" Sam answered. "J-Just before the e-exhibition."

"Maybe some food will help you" Alex said and went to the fridge to look for something. Soon he put a bowl of cereal in front of Sam with a spoon. "Try to eat some! These cereals are not flavored, so hopefully they won't bother your stomach."

Sam slowly straightened out and took the spoon with a trembling hand. He cautiously tried a sip and thankfully, his stomach didn't rebel against it. Sam ate a few more spoonfuls, when Ramon stepped into the kitchen. The boy froze, ready to jump for any order, but Ramon just smiled and waved to him to continue his breakfast.

"Is he okay?" the man whispered when he reached Alex's side, who was getting the food on a white plate.

"He said he didn't feel good" the young man replied quietly. "And he's still shaking."

"You noticed it, too?"

"Of course. It wasn't that hard when he shook my hand. I was afraid that he would get a seizure. Do you think he has epilepsy?"

"According to his medical records, no. He's healthy. Maybe it's just nerves."

"Yeah" Alex replied in a whisper, "but for a day now? It's constant and sometimes it gets stronger."

The two of them sneaked a look at Sam, who was oblivious to their conversation. The cereal stood on the table forgotten, not much missing from it. The boy had buried his head again in his arms.

"Here" Alex offered the plate in his hands, but Ramon didn't take it.

"The Master said to take Sam up to him, so he can look at him and inform him about his tasks" he explained. Alex just nodded and turned the stove off. He disappeared from the kitchen with the breakfast. Ramon stepped to Sam and laid a hand on his shoulder. The boy snapped his head up and looked at him, before lowering his eyes.

"Come on" the man said gently. "I'm gonna show you the house, before I take you to the Master."

Sam stood up and followed Ramon out of the kitchen through a door next to and hidden by the fridge.

"These are the back stairs that we have to use to get to the rooms upstairs in the mansion" Ramon explained. They walked up the stairs and reached another hallway. "This door here" the man walked forward to the corner and pointed at the mahogany door at the end "leads to residence of the Master. That is his bedroom and the bathroom is accessible from inside. The Master will give you the orders about the cleaning."

Seeing Sam's nod, they made their way to the other bend in the hallway, where another door waited for its turn to be shown.

"That door" Ramon continued as Sam peeked around the corner curiously, "leads to the upstairs hallway. This way we don't bump into guests on the main stairs." Sam nodded again, remembering a door that'd never opened in his presence in his old home. Maybe because they never had slaves…

Ramon led Sam back downstairs then through the kitchen. He opened another door on the other side of the room. Sam's jaw dropped a little when he realized they were behind the main staircase. He could catch a glimpse of the main entrance from the doorway.

"This hallway" Ramon pointed forwards "leads to the Dining Room. The back porch is accessible from there for the guests and from the kitchen for us."

"W-What are those t-tables?" Sam asked quietly. A row of tables were hiding right under the stairs.

"If there are events in there, we put the food down there, so we don't have to run through the mansion for them." Sam nodded his understanding and the two of them turned around.

"Ramon!" came a voice in front of them.

"What is it, Alex?" the man asked, as Alex stopped by them.

"The Master wants to see Sam" as Sam heard this sentence, a frightened tremor ran through him, feeling some dread sneak into his heart. _Oh, God…_

"Thanks" Ramon said and waved for Sam to follow him. They walked to the door leading to the Dining Room. The short trip was enough for Sam to become anxious and nauseous again. "You're alright?" Ramon asked a bit worried, but Sam just nodded. He crossed his wrists and threaded his fingers out of reflex and bowed his head. Ramon opened the door and they stepped in.

The room was simply decorated: cream-colored walls with a few golden patterns on the edges, a French window looking out to the left side of the yard. The room opened up to the Great Ballroom to Sam's left, with no door, one step leading up to it. Sam saw huge windows inside for the one moment he dared to look up. The long, oval table was enough for twelve people, but only a man was sitting there eating his breakfast from a simple white plate. On the other places cream-colored plates had been put, all of them decorated with a golden streak on the edge of them. There was a smaller chandelier above and two candleholders on the table with three unlit candles in each, the iron parts were painted in gold.

Sam was led next to the man and they waited for him to finish his meal. Sam looked at the man from the corner of his eyes. He was tall, well-built, he had short blonde hair, the tresses elegantly spiked. Round eyes sat on high cheekbones that made an oval shape out of the attractive face. He had full, pink lips, a little grease from the bacon shining on them, like a strange lip-gloss, but that just made him more eye-catching in Sam's eyes. The strong jaw was starting to take up a square shape, so the face slowly started to lose the boyish features.

Soon the man put the fork and the knife down and wiping away the grease with a napkin he looked up at the two slaves next to him. Sam saw jade orbs looking at Ramon, but then the boy quickly lowered his gaze onto the wooden floor.

"So?" came the silent question from a deep, slightly gruff voice. Sam could easily imagine the full lips parting and letting that voice out, elegantly forming the words. He felt his face heat up, but willed his blush away.

"Sir, this is Samuel" Ramon introduced the boy. Sam frowned inwardly, not letting it show on his face. _Sir?_

"So he's the new slave for the cleaning" the man nodded as he stood up and stepped in front of Sam. "Did Ramon show you around the house?" he asked the boy. Sam startled from the question, but answered obediently:

"Y-Yes, Master."

"You can leave the Master" the man said quickly. "Sir is enough. The others call me that, too. The Master title is just for the guests. I don't really like it."

Sam felt his shaking worsen for a moment, but nodded anyway.

"Alright" the man stepped closer. "My name is Dean Winchester. I hope you will fit into my home and amongst the others."

"P-Pleasure to m-meet you, s-s-sir" Sam stuttered at the title, not really sure if he's doing something wrong, if he says it to the Master.

"See?" the man smiled gently. "It's easy. Now, to the orders" Dean turned serious. "The day for the slaves starts at seven in the morning. Your job then is to sweep up the porch, clean the table here, in the Dining Room and then tidy up my bedroom. If I see that you're working well, you're gonna be the one who wakes me. For now if I'm not awake by the time you come up to do your job, you call for Ramon. There is no retreat, but after I've gone to bed, you have to keep the noise down.

"You are going to wash the dishes after every meal and every afternoon you let fresh air in the bedrooms, the Dining Room and the Great Ballroom. The hook for the windows in the Great Ballroom is in the cellar under the Servants' Quarters; make sure you put it back there after you're done immediately! Before lunchtime you do the laundry, the washing machine is in the Servants' Quarters. Twice a week you wash the bed-linens as well. In the summer you can hang the clothes out in the backyard, but in the winter you have to use the dryer.

"In every month you have to polish and clean the parquet on the porch. And be careful with the wood! Ramon will help you with that; it's his job as well. Finally, once a week you clean up the tiles of the entrance hall. You understood everything?"

"Yes, s-sir."

"Good" Dean nodded. "For this morning, your job is the entrance hall, since Mark already did a bigger cleaning of the mansion. So, your first week shouldn't be that hard."

"Y-Yes, s-sir."

"Ramon will keep an eye on you and reports your progress to me. Alright?"

"Yes, s-sir."

"Yes, sir" Ramon replied as well.

"Great" Dean smiled satisfied. "Ramon! Give Sam a bucket and some rugs, so he can start on the entrance hall! I'll be in the backyard."

"Right away, sir." With that Ramon led Sam away into the back hallway and back to the Servants' Quarters.

"Alex, Mr. Winchester just finished" the man informed the younger man, who was sitting at the table. Alex quickly ate the last bite of his breakfast and jumped up to do his job. Ramon stepped to one of the counters and opened it. He took out a smaller bucket and put it into the sink, starting the tap to fill it with cold water. During that he dug out a rug and put it into the bucket then gave Sam another one.

"This is a spare one if the first gets too dirty" he explained. "Try to wring it out as much as you can! You can't clean the tiles with too much water.

"O-Okay" Sam nodded. "C-Can I have a-another?"

"Why?"

"T-To put the bucket o-on it."

Ramon smiled gently and gave another rug to Sam without a word. He closed the tap and gave the bucket, too, to Sam.

"Alright, get to work!"

"Y-Yes, sir."

With that Sam left the Servants' Quarters, not seeing the minute shake of Ramon's head at the title.

_TBC_

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><p><strong>So, everyone happy? :D<strong>

**Do you want me to put up the plan of the house on 4shared . com? I made it myself.**

**Alright, see you soon!**


	5. The Needed Push Over The Tip

**ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**ULTIMATE WARNING IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**AU, OOC. Mentions of SLASH.**

**GRAND UPDATE! :D  
><strong>

**Hey, guys! Sorry for the long wait, I was busy. Hope you're not that angry at me! -smiles sweetly with Sadie-**

**Okay, so everyone was pretty worried about Sam's shaking and stuttering. Hope you will enjoy this chapter!**

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><p><em>Chapter 5: The Needed Push Over The Tip<em>

Sam was kneeling on the floor of the entrance hall near the double door, cleaning the tiles attentively. The big grandfather's clock upstairs had already chimed eleven o'clock. Sam happily noticed that he was almost finished with his work. All this time he was thinking about this whole thing. So far he didn't have a terribly hard job, even with the long list of orders. And the Master wasn't cruel as Sam imagined him to be. For some unknown reason, he was expecting an old, heartless man, who punished his slaves with whipping for every little mistake. At that thought a much more violent shiver ran through him, his teeth clattering together from the force of it. But the Master wasn't like that, not at all. He was strict, but kind, just like Mr. Graven, apart from the overly-heartiness that got into his voice during exhibitions.

But that wasn't the only thing that helped Sam to get to like the man. Dean was extremely good-looking. His voice was deep that would make any girl swoon over him and he could melt the coldest hearts with a smile. _Even me, _he thought, a blush heating up his cheeks. He shook his head to dismiss his bad thoughts. _He's my Master, a superior, _he tried to convince himself. _He wouldn't like me. I'm just a slave!_

His thoughts were cut short, when his hands knocked against the wall, indicating that he was done. Sam straightened out with a sigh and gently tossed the wet rug into the bucket. His hands were shaking hard from the cold water and the skin was red. His fingers were a little numb from the continuous wringing and scrubbing. Sam carefully stood up, mindful about his bare feet on the slippery tiles, picked up the bucket and walked slowly to the Servants' Quarters' entrance against the wall. Stepping into the kitchen, he poured the water into the sink and put the bucket and rugs away, cleaning out the basin and laying the wet rug on its side to dry.

"Sam" Alex spoke up from the stove, "could you go set the table in the Dining Room?"

"I-I don't know h-how…" Sam started, but Alex quickly cut him off:

"Get a white bowl and plate from the closet, a spoon, a fork, a knife and a napkin from the drawer" as Alex explained, Sam did it right away, "take them to the Dining Room and put them on the table where Mr. Winchester sits! I'm sure you saw which seating is that."

"Y-Yes."

"To the other seats get the golden-streaked plates from the cabinet in the Dining Room and set them on the table as well! But be careful with them!"

"B-But Ramon o-or M-Mark…" Sam started, getting a little scared.

"The shower in one of the bathrooms decided to flood the whole room today, so the two of them are repairing it now and I need to stay here. Could you do it, please?"

"A-Alright" Sam left the kitchen and walked to the Dining Room through the back hallway behind the stairs. The room was empty; the table was covered with a cream-colored tablecloth, the two candleholders standing proudly on the top. Sam put his stuff down and stepped to the bronze cabinet. Opening the glass doors, he searched for the correct plates. He soon found them; they had been on the table in the morning, when he met the Master. He carefully picked some up and took them to the table, carefully placing them in front of the chairs one by one. When he was done with that he reached out to the white ones.

As he picked up the bowl, his trembling jumped up to a violent shiver, causing his hold to slip. An enormous CRASH reverberated through the whole room, leaking out into the hallway, thanks to the open back door. Sam froze in his place, his eyes widening from the sight of the white shards on the floor that was once a bowl. Sam's hands slowly rose to his mouth, subconsciously pressing a distraught sob back into his lungs.

All of a sudden fast steps resounded in the hallway and Ramon appeared at the door.

"What happened?" he asked seeing Sam's shaking form frozen in place. When he didn't get an answer, he stepped closer and noticed the tears rolling down the pale cheeks. He followed the horrified gaze to the floor and saw the shards.

"Which one was it?" he asked worriedly. Sam still couldn't utter a reply or even move. Ramon looked at the table and noticed seven golden-streaked plates and a white one. Kneeling down he inspected the shards and found out it was a white bowl. A sob broke him out of his thoughts and he looked up at Sam. The boy was scared to death: his hazel-green eyes reddened and glinting with tears, his face whiter than the broken bowl.

"Alright" Ramon stood up and stepped to the boy cautiously, like he would approach a wild animal. "Come on" he said and started to lead Sam out of the room, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "I'll take you to Mr. Winchester."

As they made their way towards the bedroom, Sam pressed his palms onto his mouth hard, so he would stay silent and not break down into hysterical sobs and screams. The two of them stopped at the bedroom door and Ramon knocked on it. The door soon opened revealing the lord of the mansion.

"What happened?" he asked worriedly as he stepped aside, letting the two slaves in.

"There was an accident, sir" Ramon said, letting go of Sam. Dean looked at the boy closely, his brow furrowing by the shock on the pale face. Stepping closer he gently pried the hands away from Sam's mouth.

"What happened?" he asked softly. Sam was still shocked but after a few silent moments, he snapped out of his stupor:

"Alex asked me to do it and I was scared that I'd mess it up but I had to do it because Alex asked me and no one was available and I just finished with the scrubbing and I placed the gold ones right but I couldn't do it and now it's broken and all over the floor and I said to him I was clumsy and I didn't want to do it and I did it and messed it up and…"

"Shhhh" Dean shushed the hysterical boy, who started to cry from terror, holding onto the shaking shoulders as Sam swayed dangerously. He looked at Ramon for an explanation.

"He broke a plate" the man supplied. "It was a white bowl. I arrived just after the crash, and he was standing above the shards, frozen from shock."

"It was a white one?" Dean asked worriedly.

"Yes, sir. I checked it myself."

Dean nodded and stepped back, staring at the frightened slave. Ramon sensed the change and took a step back himself, feeling sorry for the boy. Sam noticed that something was wrong and started shaking harder.

SLAP!

Sam fell onto his side from the force of the hit, his right cheek flushing from the hand that backhanded him. Dean was shaking the numbness from his fingers. However, before anyone could speak up, Sam's shaking increased in force, sending his body into convulsions. The others looked at the boy for a moment then Dean hurriedly spoke up:

"Something's wrong! Call the doctor!"

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><p>"So what happened?"<p>

The question came from a man, Dr. Jim Novak. Everyone was in the sleeping quarters of the servants. Dean stood at the foot of the bed, Ramon next to him; Alex was next to the doctor, who was sitting on Sam's bed. The doctor's light blue eyes were fixed on the shaking form in front of him, one hand comfortingly lying on the shoulder.

Sam was laid on his side, the pillow already sweat-soaked under and around his head. His body was jerking erratically, not quite convulsing, but close to it. His eyes were gazing into the nothingness, soft whimpers escaping from his lips. His skin was damp from sweat and hot from a low fever.

"He got punished for breaking a plate" Dean answered the question. "It was a harder slap. He collapsed and then started convulsing."

"Sir?" Alex spoke up fearfully. Dean nodded in permission. "He has been shaking since the previous night. And he got a little nauseous this morning."

"Had he eaten anything?" the doctor asked.

"A few spoonfuls of cereal for breakfast. And he said he ate before the exhibition, where Master bought him."

"I see" Dr. Novak murmured. He tenderly caressed the damp, brown locks, but it seemed Sam hadn't felt it. "When had he become a slave?"

"He was captured two weeks before we got him" Dean answered quietly, arms crossed in an attempt to hide his trembling hands. He was really concerned for the boy; after Ramon had run for the phone, Dean had lifted Sam into his arms to take him to the Servants' Quarters. The boy's arms had been hanging towards the ground, his head had lolled back lifelessly, but his whole body had been still wracked with vicious spasms: twice Dean had almost dropped him because of it on his way downstairs.

"Has he vomited yet?" the doctor asked.

"Yes, sir" Alex replied. "Just a few minutes ago, before you arrived."

Dean closed his eyes against the image, but it broke free. He remembered Alex jumping up from Sam's bed and dashing towards the kitchen, returning with a plastic bowl in a moment. The young man had raised Sam's upper body, Ramon quickly hurrying to help him. Dean remembered that he himself had gotten nauseous from the gags that had come out of Sam. The bowl was sitting on a chair innocently, the smell of bile still lingering around it, after washing it out three times in a row.

"Well" Dr. Novak spoke up as he rummaged through his bag, "I think I know what's going on."

"What is it?" Dean asked quickly.

"He's having a nervous breakdown" the doctor replied, looking up at the man. "It seems that he was pushed, or more like shoved, into slavery. He hadn't known what to expect from it and his scared mind hadn't helped his situation, either. It probably tortured him with images that aren't true. The breaking of the plate had brought him to the tip of the iceberg and the slap had been the needed push over it."

Dean scrubbed his face to hide his guilt; he subconsciously caused Sam pain. And for what? A damned, worthless piece of porcelain, which at that was a cheap copy. Dr. Novak started to rummage through his bag again then pulled out a syringe and a small phial of clear liquid.

"What's that?" Dean asked.

"Diazepam, a sedative" the doctor replied, as he sucked the appropriate dose out of the phial with the syringe. "It'll relax his muscles and help his nerves to calm. Can one of you help me?" the doctor asked looking up at the slaves.

"Ramon!" Dean called out quietly and the man jumped to help. With the doctor they stretched Sam's arm out and Dr. Novak injected the medicine. Sam cried out when the needle penetrated his skin and tried to jerk away from the source of the pain, but Ramon held him down, soothing the terrified boy with sweet nothings. After that Dr. Novak put the used syringe into a plastic bag and put it into his bag. All of them waited for a few minutes, Dr. Novak gently caressing the boy's locks and the others, especially Dean, inwardly praying for a higher power to let the medicine take effect. Slowly Sam's whimpers died down and the spasms decreased to violent shaking. Only when Dr. Novak stood up, did the others let out a relieved sigh.

"He should be alright now" Dr. Novak addressed his words to Dean. "For the rest of the day he needs to be on bed-rest. If his fever doesn't fall by nighttime, give him a mild febrifuge! But he should be fine tomorrow. If his shakes don't disappear, call me again!"

"Thanks, doc" Dean shook the man's hand. Before he could say anything else, though, Alex jumped up and picked up the plastic bowl, all the while Ramon lifting Sam's upper body up. They watched as Sam let out a small burp, a little bile flowing out of his mouth, but after that he somewhat settled with small coughs. "What about the vomiting?"

"The Diazepam is already absorbing in his system" Dr. Novak explained calmly. "He should be okay. The vomiting is a side-effect of his anxiety."

"Alright, thank you" Dean waved for Ramon, who followed the doctor out. Dean stepped to the bed silently.

"Alex" he whispered, "go pack the food away into the fridge! You will stay with Sam today. Don't leave his side!"

"But what about dinner, sir?"

"Ramon and Mark will heat up the food you cooked for lunch. It shouldn't be a problem."

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me!" Dean smirked. "I see from your mother-henning how worried you are for him. You're gonna make me some pie, though, paying for my generosity" he added teasingly.

Alex chuckled with a slight blush, but nodded.

"But not for breakfast" he said with a smile.

"Lunch?"

"Alright." An outsider would think that a lord would spoil his slave by letting him banter with him, but this little, sort of brotherly argument was a usual ritual for the two of them. Dean gently caressed Sam's brown tresses then the damp cheek with the back of his fingers. Strangely, it was the one he had hit just minutes ago – the bruise was already visible – but instead of flinching, Sam's body relaxed some more and his eyes closed, indicating that he finally fell asleep.

_TBC_

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><p><strong>Yeah, I know. I'm cruel. But at least here's an explanation for the shakes. And don't you love the new character? He's gonna have a recurring role in the story, since he's the doctor... Whatever... I'm sure all of you enjoyed it, don't deny that! :D<br>**

**So, Read and Review! See you soon!**


	6. Breakdown And Care

**ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**ULTIMATE WARNING IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**AU, OOC.**

**Hey, guys! Here's the new chappy. YAY! :)**

**I'm pretty sure, everyone was worried about Sammy.**

**So, enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 6: Breakdown And Care<em>**  
><strong>

The melody of crickets filled the cool summer evening around the mansion. The sun was going down, letting the navy-blue darkness to overtake the sky, but its red glory was still decorating the horizon. This was the scene that greeted Sam when he woke up. His head was swimming with disorientation and confusion, as he looked out of the window from his bed. He felt cold, but everything was so hot that he wanted to shove the blanket from his body. He was too tired, though, to do it.

After a few minutes of resting and gazing into the red sky, Sam started to sit up. He had enough of lying in bed. His limbs were trembling from the effort it took to push himself up, his muscles tensing painfully. As the blanket slid down his torso, he jerked from the pain that accompanied the textile, as it brushed his skin. Finally, he was sitting up, so he looked around, but confusion filled his muddled brain: he didn't recognize the room.

There was a chair next to the bed. His Dad always sits with him, when he's sick. But why was he in a stranger's room? At least it has to be a stranger's. He saw other beds, as well. Was this some kind of a camp? Or his Dad took him to a vacation?

"Daddy" he tried to call out, but the word came out raspy, hurting his throat. Sam cleared his throat with a wince then began the slow, painful process of standing up. As his backside lifted up, his vision spun and he got a sudden head-rush. He quickly caught the nightstand next to his bed to keep himself upright. He waited a few seconds for the dizziness to pass then he continued to straighten up.

As he did that, he tilted to the side and everything that was on the nightstand, fell onto the floor with loud bangs. Sam whimpered and moaned from the pain it caused in his head and ears and he wished that his Dad would rush into the room to help him. No one came.

Sam waited another few minutes again then turned towards the entrance of the room. He began stumbling that way, his balance sometimes tipping dangerously to the side. However, he reached the door without problem. He needed a few seconds to figure out the door handle, but he soon got the door open.

Peeking out onto the corridor, he felt something tug on his brain, but his fever-ridden mind couldn't identify it. He sneaked out onto the hallway and tried to decide where to go, when he heard a big bang from his left, behind another door. Sam thought it was his Dad, probably coming home from work or doing errands or something, so he stumbled to the door and opened it.

He was greeted by a huge, unfamiliar room with a big staircase in the middle. This room was tugging on his mind, too, just like the hallway. But before he could think about that annoying tug, a voice interrupted his attention:

"Sam?"

Sam was confused; this wasn't his Dad! His Dad's voice was gruffer, not this smooth, calming voice that said his name! Sam turned towards the voice and his eyes landed on a man standing on the stairs, looking at him worried and confused.

"Sam?" the man spoke again. "Are you okay?"

Sam just stared at the stranger, not even acknowledging the tickling feeling starting from the corner of his mouth and going down his chin. The man stepped closer, the worry emphasized on his face by the red light coming through the windows. Then Sam caught a glint of the blond hair and the tug strengthened into a pull that yanked him back into his memories. He was at that mansion. He was a servant. A slave! His Dad…

Sam started panting from fear, as he remembered the last time he saw his Dad. His eyes snapped to the entrance, the big two-winged door.

"Daddy!" he cried out, his voice stronger and full of fear. He began running towards the big door, towards freedom, only stumbling a couple of times, but staying upright. He heard a shout behind him, but ignored it in favor of reaching freedom. Soon he got the big door open and he shot out onto the porch. By some miracle, he ran down the stairs without falling and dashed to the gate. His speed quickened, his heart hammered in his chest, because freedom was so close… He can see his Dad again soon…

But as his fingers wrapped around the bars and he pulled, the gate didn't budge.

"No…" he whimpered and pulled on it again. Besides a rattle, the result was the same. "NO!" he screamed and pulled on the gate again and again. He felt like a wild animal in a cage… "DADDY!" … his family out there and he can't go home… "NOO!"… freedom is in front of him just out of reach… "NOOO!"

* * *

><p>Dean watched shocked the sight in front of him. He was scared when Sam ran out of the house and Dean took off after the boy. He shouted after him, but Sam either didn't hear it, or just ignored him. When the boy crashed into the gate, Dean sped up, frightened that Sam hurt himself, but then he was halted in his track: Sam tried to open the locked gate. Dean was glad for a moment that he himself had gone out to lock the gate, otherwise Sam could have escaped, his feverish mind and thoughts leading him towards anything, even danger. But then a scream tore through the evening air:<p>

"NO!"

Dean's heart sank from the agony and misery in the boy's voice. He heard other footsteps behind him and turning back he saw Alex running towards them. Dean lifted his hand up to stop the young man, who slid into a halt a few feet away from his Master. Then another scream came:

"DADDY!"

Dean instantly knew what Alex was thinking, so he raised his hand up again to stop him. The young man's face showed the battle inside him: he wanted to gather the boy into his arms, no matter the height difference, but he had to obey to his Master's order.

"NOO!"

At that Mark came out of the house, hearing the screams in the backyard. He saw his Master a few feet away from the gate and Alex in the middle of the path. He quickly hurried down the steps and to Alex's side, wrapping an arm around the young man's shaking shoulders to hold him back.

"NOOO!"

Dean's heart shattered at the tormented scream and desperate rattling of the gate. But after that, it was just silence that pressed on his ears; even the crickets paused their concert. He turned to the gate, worried about Sam.

Sam had fallen on his knees, hands still wrapped around the bars above his head, which was leaned against the metal. His whole body was shaking, but the skin was flushed from the warmth inside the boy. Dean cautiously took a step closer, but Sam didn't react. He did it again with the same result. He made his way to the boy like that, until he got behind him. He crouched down to observe Sam's condition closely; that was when he heard the sound.

It was a long, breathy whimper like a dog's keening, panicked whine. It was so animalistic that Dean couldn't believe that it was coming from the broken boy in front of him. Dean felt pity for his servant: he couldn't imagine what it's like to be ripped out of your ordinary life, away from your family and be thrown into an unknown one. He laid a hand on the trembling shoulders giving whatever comfort he could.

Sam's shaking increased and the whimpers turned into soft crying. Dean practically felt the realization fall onto the boy's mind and body. Obeying to a strong urge, Dean pulled the boy away from the gate and cradled him in his arms. He tenderly caressed the chestnut-brown locks, holding Sam's head in the crook of his neck. The boy's sobs rose in volume.

"D-Dad-dy…" Sam moaned between gasps. "Wan'… home…"

"Shhshshshh" Dean shushed the distressed soul in his embrace. "You're alright. You're gonna be okay."

As Sam continued sobbing, Dean felt tears gather in his eyes. Even though he knew that the boy needed this, he couldn't help but feel guilty about how it was triggered by him. He tried to convince himself that it's better if Sam goes through this now before it's too late, but actually witnessing the boy's breakdown… it just tore his heart into pieces.

Suddenly Sam's body began jerking and the boy started coughing. Dean quickly pushed him away then forward. With another cough Sam gagged and everything Alex could get into his stomach, splattered on the ground, a few drops landing on Dean's pants. Dean tenderly brushed the boy's bangs back and comforted him with nonsense, sweet nothings. When Sam was done, he went limp and fell into the man's arms. As Dean looked at his servant, scared of what could've happened, he saw glassy, fever-ridden eyes gazing forward into the emptiness.

"It's okay, Sam" he whispered, combing his fingers through the boy's tresses. "Let's get you back into bed!" With that he lifted Sam up into his arms and turned towards the house. When Sam's head lolled back, he jostled the boy enough to lay it back on his shoulder again. Reaching the two servants still standing in their place, he spoke:

"Get Sam's bed ready and find the medicine for fever!"

Mark turned towards the house with Alex, who seemed to snap out of his stupor at the movement. Both of them hurried back into the mansion to do as they were told. Dean heard a moan in his arms and turned to Sam, who had a frown on his brow. Dean pressed an unnoticeably soft kiss on the forehead, smoothing the frown out with it. All the while he continued his way towards the mansion and the servants' quarter.

In the servants' bedroom, he saw the thick blanket on Sam's bed pulled back, so he laid his fragile cargo onto the mattress in a half-sitting position. He quickly got a bowl of cold water and a washcloth from the bathroom and perched himself on the side of the bed. Wetting the cloth, he began wiping the warm skin on Sam's face and neck. The coldness seemed to reach Sam's blank mind, because he moaned quietly and tried to shift away. Dean shushed him and continued his task.

After a few minutes, Alex returned with a pill and a glass of water.

"What should we do, sir?" he asked in a shaking voice, as he put his things down onto the nightstand. Dean noticed the shiny streaks on the young man's cheeks.

"We should check his temperature" Dean replied, not stopping in his task. Every time the cold water touched Sam's skin, the boy got more coherent of his surroundings. His shaking started, much to the others' relief: his body finally took up arms against the fever. Alex ran out of the door to get the thermometer. Soon he returned and Dean put the thermometer into Sam's mouth. After a few minutes he took it out and checked it.

"102.2" he sighed from relief. "It's not that high. Let's give him the medicine!"

Alex picked up the pill and the glass, while Dean leaned closer to Sam to get his attention.

"Hey, Sam" at his name, the boy rolled his eyes towards the voice. "You think you can stomach some water?" Dean smiled at the wide, innocent eyes, but inside he felt terrible for what's happening to his servant. Sam let out a short moan and Dean brushed the boy's bangs from his forehead. "Alright" Dean took the pill from Alex's hand. "Open up!" he ordered softly and noticed happily that Sam – though, slowly – did what he told. Dean put the pill onto Sam's tongue then reached back for the glass. He lifted it up to Sam's lips and tipped the water into the boy's mouth. Luckily, Sam swallowed the pill at the first try, but he spluttered on the second sip, surprised from the bitter taste in his mouth. Dean hushed him and made him drink the whole glass of water.

"There we go" Dean said with a gentle smile, when the boy finished. "What do you say about sleeping, huh?" he asked and got another short moan in response. Guessing it was a yes in Sam's condition, Dean stood up and arranged him, so the boy was lying flat on his bed. When he finished, he was greeted by Sam's tightly shut eyes and a couple of tears escaping from between the lids. "What's wrong, Sam?" he asked worriedly.

"Sir, I think he's dizzy" Alex spoke softly. Dean nodded at him in thanks and began stroking Sam's tresses to calm him down. Soon Sam's breathing evened out, but he didn't open his eyes.

"Alright, Alex" Dean turned to his servant. "Stay with him! If there's anything, inform me immediately, no matter what time it is, okay?"

"Yes, sir" Alex answered, tipping his head forward. With that arranged, Dean left the servants' quarter to go to sleep, hoping that Sam will have a peaceful night.

* * *

><p>The rising sun woke Sam up the next time. He felt sweat covering his whole body and soon he found out the reason for it: a thick blanket was laid out on him. Sam slowly got up onto his elbows and looked around. He saw the other servants in their bed, still sleeping, and wondered what time it was.<p>

The opening of the door broke him out of his musing and he saw Alex sneak into the room. When the young man turned towards his bed, he jumped, seeing Sam awake, but rushed to him.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, as he helped Sam to sit up.

"Confused" Sam replied, his voice hoarse. Alex gave him some water.

"Do you remember what happened yesterday?" he asked, as Sam sipped at the water.

"Yesterday?" Sam looked at him surprised. "What time is it?"

"It's almost seven in the morning" Alex answered. "We have to get up soon, anyway."

"I…" Sam thought about the previous day. "I washed the tiles in the Entrance Hall then… you asked me to set up the table in the Dining Room… I…" Sam shut his eyes to sort out his fuzzy memories. "I broke a plate… a bowl… and Ramon took me to the Master… then pain struck my face and everything went black." When Sam looked up, he saw the gentle, relieved smile on Alex's face.

"Yes" the young man nodded. "You got punished for it. It was a slap. You went into convulsions; that's why you blacked out." Sam's eyes widened at Alex's explanation.

"But why?" he asked confused. "I'm not epileptic…"

"We called the doctor" Alex continued. "He said it was a nervous breakdown." Sam lowered his head in shame. "It's perfectly understandable" Alex tried to comfort the boy, laying a hand on his shoulder. "With what happened to you and how you got into slavery, I was surprised you hadn't had a breakdown sooner."

"I remember…" Sam spoke up softly, "I looked for my Dad… I wanted to get out…"

"That was when you finally let everything out" Alex explained. "You had a fever, so you couldn't control yourself. But the Master helped you." Sam blushed slightly partly from shame, partly from something he refused to think about. "He calmed you down and brought you in here, he even stayed with you until you fell asleep."

"It's not usual from him?" Sam asked curiously.

"Well, sort of" Alex shrugged, trying to get the right words out. "Look, we all had some sort of a breakdown, while serving here, until we learned how the Master treats us. And he was always with us, taking care of us and helping to get through this. But he wasn't that… passionate, I think, as with you." Sam stared at Alex shocked. What made him so special to get this kind of a reaction from his Master? Their conversation was interrupted with a groan next to them and the other two servants sat up, waking slowly.

"Mornin'" Mark mumbled as he fell back into his pillow and burrowed himself into his blanket. Ramon just rolled his eyes as he stood up. Stepping to the bed, he gently shoved the younger man out of the bed, who fell onto the floor with a thump and a petulant grunt. Alex laughed at their antics and even Sam let loose a grin and a chuckle. Mark staggered up to his feet with a series of mumbles under his breath.

"Aye, aye, Captain" Alex exclaimed. When Mark hit the young man on his head, Sam understood what happened: it seemed Mark had a string of curses that would make a sailor blush. Ramon was already out of the room and probably having a shower.

"Hey, Sam, how do you feel?" Mark asked, sleepy eyes filled with a little worry trained on Sam.

"Still a bit weak, but better" Sam answered sincerely. "Thank you."

"No probs'" Mark mumbled then he stumbled out of the room with a grin and a leisure wave towards the others.

"Now I can't understand why I was so worried" Sam muttered softly, head lowered again from shame.

"Like I said" Alex spoke, "it's perfectly understandable. Not knowing what to expect, everyone would freak out and worry that everything will go bad. We understand it, you don't have to be ashamed about it!" Sam nodded and smiled at the young man gratefully. After Alex left and Sam carefully got out of bed, still not trusting his strength, Ramon stepped into the room, dressed in sweatpants and a shirt, his black hair and olive skin shining from water.

"How you holding up?" he asked, as he made his bed.

"I'm good, thank you…" Sam answered with a smile then shyly added: "Ramon…"

Ramon looked up surprised, since the boy always called him 'sir'. After a moment he smiled at the boy then turned back to his task. Not sure what should he do, Sam began making his bed, too. Just as he finished, Ramon stepped to him.

"Ready for your official first day?" the man asked. Sam nodded, a bit nervous inside. "Your job now will be the porch first. Sweep it up then go to the Dining Room! If the tablecloth is not that dirty, just shake it out then sweep up the room, as well! If it's dirty, bring it down here to wash it out and put a clean one on the table! Okay?"

"Okay" Sam nodded. "And what about the decoration and the candleholders?"

"I'll put them back onto the table" Ramon replied. "Don't worry about that!" Sam lowered his head a bit, feeling shame rear its head up again. Ramon just clapped his shoulder in assurance. "Take a shower, before you go!" he said then left the room. Sam walked out of the room, too, and stepped to the closet to get a shirt and a pair of sweatpants, grabbing his towel from the back of the shelf. He took a quick shower, feeling lighter from the water massaging his stiff muscles. All the while he was thinking about his future in this mansion. The other servants were nice and fun to be with. His Master obviously cared for him. He just hoped that it wouldn't change for the worse. Otherwise, he may be able to get used to this.

When he was ready he went to the cellar, where the closet for the supplies were and got a broom and a dust-pan out. As he made his way out of the servants' quarter, he nodded at the others in the kitchen with a smile. Yes, he could get used to this.

_TBC_

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><p><strong>So, how did you like it?<strong>

**I'm so happy that I can finally write Sam without his stutters. He's finally over his fears... I think...**

**Check out the poll in my profile! I will put up some URLs of pictures, as well, so please check them out first before voting! Thanks!**

**Alright, see you soon!**


	7. The Truth

**ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**ULTIMATE WARNING IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**AU, OOC.**

**Hey, guys! Here's the new chapter. I'm 100% sure that EVERYONE was waiting for this.**

**Just for your interest, the second half of the chapter, with Sam in it, it actually happened to me. I gave some of my words into Sam's mouth. What he goes through is what I have gone through once. Only the injection part didn't happen, because it wasn't necessary for me. Hope you'll like my idea!**

**Poll is closed! Pairings are: Alex/Mark, Ramon/Newbie. Thanks for voting!**

**The plan of the Winchester Mansion is up on 4shared, if you're interested! The link for my account is in my profile.**

**Alright, enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 7: The Truth<em>

A week passed since Sam's breakdown, and he was slowly adjusting to the new life at the mansion. Already having experience from cleaning after his father, he fairly quickly learned his tasks.

He started his first day with the orders Ramon gave him. While he was sweeping, he could take a look at what Mark was doing in the garden. At the front, Mark trimmed the hedge and the bushes and in the backyard he cared for the flowers, the trees and the little vegetable garden. Sam got his own slippers for when he was outside: it was a simple, black pair of slippers.

After that Sam cleaned up the Dining Room. The tablecloth had some stains on it, so after shaking it out and replacing it, he took it the laundry basket in the servants' bathroom. When he returned to sweep up the Dining Room, he met Ramon, who was putting the décor back onto the table. Together they went to the Master's Bedroom, where first Ramon woke the Master up then he let Sam in to do his job.

"Morning, Sam" the Master greeted him still a bit sleepily, as he stumbled out of his bed.

"Good morning, sir" Sam answered obediently with a slight bow, eyes on the floor. He stood in his place awkwardly, as the Master shuffled away into the bathroom. Only then let Sam loose a huge sigh, trying to shake off his nervousness, while starting to make the bed. His fingers caressed the silky sheets and covers, trying to chase away the image of his Master lying in the bed with Sam in his arms… Sam quickly shook his head and dismissed those distracting pictures, returning to puffing up the pillows and arranging them as perfectly as he could.

"How are you feeling today?" the Master's voice came from behind him. Sam swiftly turned around surprised and found himself face to face with a half-naked Dean, the muscled chest glinting from drops of water. Sam felt his face burn from the deep red blush, the sight seared into his brain. He quickly snatched his gaze away and then the question broke through his hazy imaginations.

"I'm feeling better, sir, thank you" he replied timidly, his wrists crossing each other and fingers intertwining in the sign of submission. "And I wanted to say thank you for the help Master gave me…" Sam trailed off, afraid from the Master's reaction as the title slipped out of his mouth.

"You're welcome" was Dean's only response at the boy's slip, as he dressed up. "Don't forget the laundry! And could you dust in here a little?"

"Of course, sir, right away" Sam replied immediately, tipping his head forward. With that Dean left the bedroom, whistling cheerfully. Sam went into the bathroom and picked up the discarded clothes from the floor. He smiled wistfully as the memory of his father came to the surface. Sam had always had to gather the clothes up from the floors to wash them. After that he dumped the clothes into the laundry basket, picked it up and carried it downstairs.

"Sam, come have breakfast!" Alex shouted for the boy from the kitchen. Sam walked to the kitchen and joined the others at the table, already eating. As soon as he sat down, Alex returned from serving up the Master's breakfast. They had some chat; Sam couldn't stop praising Alex's cooking, while Mark and Ramon fooled around next to them.

A few minutes later, when Sam finished washing the dishes, he went back to the bathroom to do the laundry. He hung the wet clothes out in the backyard, trusting the warm sun to dry them. Getting the feather-duster from the supply closet, he went back to the Master's bedroom. Luckily, it was empty, so he could dust the furniture without any distraction, ignoring the slight disappointment in his heart at not meeting with the Master again.

Lunch and dinner went by in the same manner as breakfast. Between the two events, he learned how to open the windows in the Great Ballroom with the telescopic hook. After a few tries he got the feeling of it and closing the windows wasn't such a difficult task.

Soon the evening descended onto the world, darkening the huge mansion. Ramon walked around the house to blow out the candles in the hallways.

"So" Alex spoke, when Ramon joined them in the kitchen. They already had dinner and showered, sitting in their pajamas around the table. "How was your official first day?"

"Well" Sam smiled shyly, "when I first arrived, I was scared to death of what would await me here. But after today, I realized that it's not that bad to live here, even as a servant." Alex grinned at his response and hugged him tightly.

"And your job is not even the hardest" Mark added, earning a snort from Ramon.

"You tell me" the older man said. "Being a boss, especially for you, is taking a toll on me. It would take a toll on anybody." Mark just shoved playfully at the man's shoulder, while Alex and Sam laughed at them.

"And, um, how was your day?" Sam asked quietly, still a little uncertain around the other servants.

"Well, I've been working my arse off" Alex spoke, smiling at Sam encouragingly. "Unlike a certain someone and I don't wish to point."

"What?" Mark exclaimed in mock-hurt. "It's not like the garden needs that much work right now."

"Yeah" Alex snipped at him, his smile light, "so you camped out in my kitchen and tried to distract me from my work with your constant whining about boredom."

"You don't hafta be mean!" Mark pouted at Alex. Sam raised an eyebrow at that: was Alex _blushing_ with a shy smile? The conversation broke off with a loud yawn from Ramon.

"'horry" the older man apologized, just managing to end his yawn. "I had a long day. I was making trips to the town, shopping around. I'm dead on my feet."

"You're sitting" Mark muttered, earning himself a slap on the back of his head. "Ouch! Why is everyone hurting me?"

"So maybe we can knock some sense into you?" Ramon answered. Sam chuckled at that, while the older man stood up. "Alright, I'm going to bed" Ramon continued, stretching his arms out above his head. "Behave, kiddies!"

"So do I" Alex sighed, following him. Mark did the same. "Are you coming, as well?" Alex asked Sam.

"Yeah, just a few minutes" Sam answered with a smile. After the others left him alone, Sam lowered his gaze onto the tabletop. He remembered the first night he'd had, when his Dad had moved the two of them to that old house. He'd had that interesting feeling that surrounded him, crawling its way up on his skin into his mind: the anticipation and unfamiliarity. He was having the same feeling now. It was difficult to name the sensation that overtook him, when he was spending his first real night in a new, different, unknown place. With that feeling he almost saw himself sitting at the table from an outside point of view.

Sam remembered wandering the rooms of that old house in the dark, that feeling coursing through his body. It was like he was ready for any possible thing that could happen at the new place. He had this feeling right now with the Winchester Mansion. He began considering a tour around the house in the darkness, but then decided against it. A huge mansion was slightly scarier in the dark than a family house and he still didn't trust his strength and willpower.

So with that, he stood up and followed the others into the bedroom. That night he was sleeping peacefully, anxiety and excitement filling his mind with little, meaningless dreams.

* * *

><p>Days passed with the same routine, until a week had flown by since the breakdown. During that, Ramon showed Sam how to wash and wax the parquet on the porch and Sam learned the technique of washing bed-linens. However, Sam knew that something was bound to happen that would change the events, possibly for the worse.<p>

In the afternoon, while Sam was putting away the hook, he felt something strange. Gulping in fear, he ran into the bathroom and locked himself in. Alex heard the slam of the door, so he hurried out onto the hallway from the kitchen, only to hear the bathroom door's lock click. He walked up to it and knocked.

"Are you okay?" he asked, hoping for an answer.

"Uh, y-yeah, uhm, yeah, I'm fine" Sam answered, his voice shaking from nervousness.

"Do you need any help?" Alex continued, trying to ignore the soft litany of 'Dammit' coming from Sam.

"N-No, I can handle it, but thank you" Alex shrugged at that, worried about the shaky tone. He understood, though, that whatever it was, Sam was capable of handling it, and he would probably tell them if it was serious.

After long, quiet minutes Sam emerged from the bathroom. After getting the dried laundry inside, he sat down at the kitchen table, waiting for dinner. Alex noticed that the boy was a little pale, but had a slight flush on his cheeks. As he was serving up the food, he laid the back of his hand onto Sam's forehead, startling him from his thoughts. No fever, though. So maybe it was from embarrassment. That night all of them called it an early night and went to bed.

* * *

><p>Crickets filled the dark night with their melody that the light breeze carried around the mansion. Next to the front stairs, light footsteps on the grass silenced the music, as the small musicians hurried out of their way. A tall form walked back and forth on the front yard, staying close to the porch. The person's slippers rustled the grass with every step.<p>

Sam was pacing in the darkness, breathing in the cooler, fresh summer air deeply. He had snuck out of the mansion quite a while ago and hadn't stopped walking ever since. He knew this would've happened soon, but for some reason this was much worse than ever before. He flinched and hunched a bit in on himself, but he soon breathed out in a little relief and mostly in annoyance.

He felt so ashamed by this, so he hoped that he could get through the night without any fuss from the others. But this was so much worse than before, maybe because of his breakdown and it just wouldn't _stop…_

"Sam?"

The boy quickly snapped his head up to the porch, towards the voice. Seeing a tall person and a blond glint in the moonlight, though, he quickly lowered his gaze again.

"Sam" Dean called again and the boy heard him coming down the stairs. "What are you doing out here in this hour?"

"I'm sorry, sir" Sam muttered, but his voice choked with a sharp wince. He heard quick steps on the grass then hands caught his shoulders to prevent him falling over. Sam didn't even notice the dangerous sway of his body.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked worriedly. "What's wrong?"

Sam felt strong nausea rise up in him and he tried to breathe deeply against it. He felt himself move then realized that Dean guided him to the side of the porch to lean him against it. As he looked up, he noticed the slight swimming of the world.

"We should get you back into bed and call the doctor" Dean spoke gently, one hand still on the boy's shoulder.

"No, sir" Sam shook his head slightly, not wanting to jar his swimming vision further. "It's not necessary…" he flinched again then stood up to start pacing again, but Dean stopped him.

"What's wrong?" Dean repeated. Sam felt tears form in his eyes as his nerves flared up again, causing him to flinch and start shifting from left to right. That didn't help him any and now he couldn't stop a frustrated sob to break out of him Dean wrapped an arm around his shoulders and Sam didn't care if he gets punished: he looked up at his Master with pleading eyes, begging him silently to stop it!

The man's green eyes slowly checked him over, trying to find a clue to the suffering of his servant. His eyes widened when he caught Sam's hand pressing down on the lower abdomen area.

"Come on" he spoke still in a gentle tone. "We call the doctor to help you, alright?"

"I'm sorry, sir" Sam sobbed out, his resolve breaking. Dean just shushed him as he started to lead the boy to the house.

They just stepped through the entrance door, when the pain tore through Sam's body violently. He felt like his intestines were churning from it, pulling on the knot in his abdomen. As the pain reached his stomach, Sam jerked forward with a hard gag. Luckily, nothing came out, but he didn't dare to straighten out for a few minutes. All the while Dean was tenderly brushing his short bangs back, leaning his palm on the damp forehead for a few moments every time, and was stroking his back soothingly. Sam heard the hum of speech but couldn't make out the words. He gasped in frightened breaths and felt numbness creeping up from his fingers towards his palms.

"Alright" Dean said close to his ear as he slowly helped the boy to straighten out. "The doctor will be here soon. Let's get you into bed!"

Sam struggled against the pull of gravitation as he leaned hard into Dean's side. He pinned his gaze ahead, fighting the urge to close his eyes longer than a blink. His head was buzzing, his hands were completely numb now and he couldn't move them. Soon he was sitting on his bed with Dean beside him holding him up. Sam felt another assault of nausea rise into his throat, but it wasn't strong enough to make him vomit.

"I want to throw up" he cried helplessly, his tone desperate. Dean's hand lay onto the back of his neck and pushed him gently forward.

"Then do it!" Dean answered quietly.

"I can't" Sam sobbed, getting more and more frustrated with the whole thing. Dean just caressed the boy's tresses in comfort.

Long minutes later the sleeping quarter's door opened and Dr. Novak hurried in.

"What happened?" he asked. "Alex was really frightened on the phone."

"Sam is in pain" Dean replied while the doctor kneeled in front of the boy, putting his bag to his side onto the floor. "He almost threw up, while coming back in and he feels nauseous. I think he's…" Dean's voice died down from hesitation, but it seemed the doctor understood him.

"Sam" Dr. Novak turned to the boy. "Are you menstruating?"

"Yes" Sam answered distressed. "It hurts…"

"I know" the doctor nodded, feeling sorry for the boy. His blue eyes landed on the boy's hands. The fingers were stretched out wide except the thumbs that were arched towards the palms. The doctor carefully grasped the boy's hands and instantly felt the locked muscles. "Could you fist your hands for me?" he asked. He caught the slight twitch of the left index finger.

"I can't" Sam cried, his breaths quickening from fear.

"Sam! Calm down!" the doctor ordered firmly. "Take deep breaths!" Then he turned to Dean. "Help me lay him onto the floor!"

The two men slowly situated the scared boy onto the ground, Dr. Novak propping Sam's feet up onto the bed. The doctor got a blood pressure gauge from his bag.

"Alright, Sam" he spoke as he worked. "You need to try and stay calm! I want you to take deep breaths, hold them in for a few moments then let them out slowly. Can you do that for me?" Sam nodded sluggishly, his eyes drifting closed. "Don't! Open them!" the doctor ordered quickly. The boy obeyed slowly and stared at the ceiling as he breathed slowly like Dr. Novak ordered.

"What's wrong with him?" Dean asked quietly. Sam almost forgot that he was sitting next to him.

"His blood pressure dropped down" Dr. Novak answered, as he wrapped u his examination and packed the pressure gauge away. "That's why he's dizzy and nauseous. And it explains his paleness. Can you move your hands now, Sam?" he asked, caressing the boy's forehead. Sam's fingers curled in halfway, shook slightly then stretched out again. "Are they numb?"

"Yes" Sam whimpered. He could barely move his jaw. "M' legs, too."

"It's alright" Dr. Novak reassured him. "It's just the shock from the scare you got. It's gonna go away." Sam nodded in understanding, huffing out a sob with a wince. "What is it?"

"Hurts…" Sam replied in a small voice. Dr. Novak carded his fingers through the terrified boy's tresses.

"Keep moving your hands, so the numbness can disappear faster!" he ordered gently.

"Can you do something for him?" Dean asked worriedly.

"First, he needs to calm down" Dr. Novak answered. "Then I will give him an injection for the pain." Sam's scared whimper interrupted them. The two men were sitting on the floor for a few minutes, helping the boy to calm down some. Sam kept fisting his hands while taking deep breaths and he felt the numbness retreat from his fingers. He was breathing through his nose now, because his mouth wouldn't open now very easily. His eyes wanted to close from the sudden fatigue overwhelming him, but he just stares at the ceiling stubbornly.

"Let's get him onto the bed!" Dr. Novak called to Dean, when he saw the boy's fingers completely but very loosely curl against the palms. "Sam, you just let us do the work for you, alright? Keep moving your hands and breathing slowly!" Sam nodded in answer.

Dean helped the doctor to sit Sam up slowly, holding onto his arms. The boy flinched in pain, so they waited a few moments while Sam rode it out. When the slight tenseness evaporated from Sam's muscles, they carefully hoisted him up onto his feet, stopping again at the boy's sway.

Soon Sam was lying on the bed on his side, still obeying to the doctor's orders. Dean was kneeling next to the bed, caressing the boy's tresses comfortingly. Dr. Novak got his bag onto the bed, behind Sam and got out a phial and a hypodermic needle. Filling it, he laid a hand onto Sam's side and pulled the boy's pants down slightly. However, Sam tensed immediately and started gasping again in fear.

"Shh, Sam, calm down" Dean hushed him softly. "You need to relax…"

"No, please, nonono! No!" Sam sobbed completely distraught. Dean grasped the boy's hand firmly and began stroking the pale cheek.

"Shhh, it's gonna be okay" the man whispered. "It won't hurt. Trust me!" Sam, though, didn't hear him through his panic. "Look at me!" he ordered firmly.

"I mustn't…" Sam started, but Dean cut him off:

"I allow you to look me in the eye!"

A few, sobbing-filled moments later hazel eyes slowly looked up and pinned onto emeralds. Tears streamed down Sam's nose and into the pillow, his irises were glinting in terror.

"Try to take deep breaths!" Dean spoke softly. Sam tried to obey, but his efforts ended in a strong gag. "Alright, then follow my lead, okay?" Dean began breathing deeply. Soon Sam imitated him with his own hitching ones, his eyes never leaving his Master's. They went on until the boy relaxed.

Dr. Novak recognized his opportunity and gently gave Sam the injection. Sam flinched and gasped, when the needle penetrated his skin, but Dean was quick to calm him. When the doctor finished, Dean smiled at his servant.

"You see?" he whispered. "That wasn't that bad, was it?" he chuckled at Sam's timid shake of his head and caressed the boy's cheek with his knuckles.

"Do you want us to move you into a comfortable position?" Dr. Novak asked.

"No, sir" Sam whimpered. Dean's heart broke at the sight of wide, terror-filled eyes and the tightening hold on his hand. The boy still didn't pull his gaze away from the man's.

"Then I'm going" Dr. Novak replied.

"I call Alex to follow you out" Dean turned to the man. He didn't miss the strengthening hold on his hand.

"It's not necessary" Dr. Novak refused with a smile. "Have a good night!"

"Good night."

When the doctor closed the door after himself, Dean turned back to Sam. He was surprised to see even more tears in the boy's eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

"Want Daddy" Sam breathed, his lower lip trembling. Dean pulled the boy in his arms, laying his head on the brown tresses. Sam's body shook with hard, silent sobs, so the man did everything to hush his servant. Soon the boy stopped and Dean laid him back onto the bed.

"'M sorry, sir" Sam mumbled lowering his eyes, but the lids closed from the weight of exhaustion.

"It's alright" Dean whispered. "Get some rest! I'm sure you're tired."

"M-hm" Dean smiled with adoration at the sleepy response then the grip on his hand slackened. The man couldn't help but press a small kiss onto the chestnut-brown tresses and his heart soared from the sleepy hum he got in response. He stayed with Sam fir a little while, just watching over this sweet, innocent young man, before getting up, tucking him in and retiring in his room.

_TBC_

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><p><strong>So, how was it? Hope it's still good!<strong>

**Read and Review! See you soon!**


	8. Interlude at the Piano

**ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**ULTIMATE WARNING IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**AU, OOC. If you look closely, there are some hints of SLASH in there! Nothing too big.**

**Hey guys! I was really thinking about this chapter (more like scene), because this is a milestone in Sam and Dean's relationship. Hope you'll enjoy it!**

**The song Sam plays on piano (minus spaces):  
><strong>

**http:/www. youtube. com/ watch?v=ViHjkogYdjQ**

**Have a good read!**

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><p><em>Chapter 8: Interlude at the Piano<em>

The next morning Sam felt ashamed of what happened. He disturbed the Master's night because he couldn't handle a little cramp… He didn't want to draw attention to himself and he certainly didn't want to cause trouble to his Master, but for some reason someone with a higher power must have hated him last night. The doctor was called to him even!

Sam was sure everyone was furious with him, waking them up in the middle of the night. So as he was going through his tasks, he did everything to avoid the others, not wanting to cause more trouble for them. So far, he did well.

In the afternoon as he opened the windows in the Great Ballroom for airing, he discovered a large, black piano at the end of the room. He folded the hook and laid it on the floor at the wall then slowly walked to the instrument. The lacquered wood was glinting in the sunlight: it must have been freshly polished. Sam caressed the smooth surface then, as he walked around the piano, the keys. He felt a smile creep up onto his face, as he remembered the piano in his old home. The mansion had filled with the beautiful songs as his mother had played. Those were happier, peaceful times…

A sad, longing sigh broke out of him, memories filling his mind, but reality rushed back into his head, chasing away the pictures of his childhood. Sam lowered his eyes to the keys and soon a melody popped into his head. Looking around to check he was alone, Sam sat down onto the bench and rested his fingertips on the white keys.

Hitting the first notes, he closed his eyes at the old song he knew from his childhood. His mother always called it: "Lullaby for Sammy" Soon his other hand joined in and the music began in a light, soft tone. After a little while he lost himself in the melody and the music rose in volume, filling the mansion and reaching a person upstairs.

Sam returned to the soft notes of the melody, his eyes still closed as he remembered his mother smiling at him while she played this song. He ignored the lone tear trailing down his cheek as the music slowed down, finally reaching to a stop. He quickly wiped his tears away, softly sniffing against the sobs trying to break out of him.

A hand landing on his shoulder made him jump and turn around.

"S-Sir?" he uttered out as he met with the Master's eyes, quickly lowering them back to the keys. "I'm so s-sorry, sir, I just don't know what came over me…"

"You play beautifully" Dean spoke quietly, cutting Sam's words off. Before Sam could scurry away, mumbling apologies, Dean sat down next to him, fingertips caressing the white keys lovingly. "here did you learn it from?"

"My Mom started teaching me" Sam answered, mind going through the memories of that time. "Then after she… passed away…" he gulped at the word, getting a little choked up. "Dad got me a teacher, so I could continue."

"I'm sorry" Dean whispered, looking at his servant. "I know what it's like… to loose a parent, I mean…"

The man sighed as he turned forwards, his hand leaving Sam's shoulder. The boy instantly started missing the warmth.

"My Dad died when I was a kid" Dean said. "It was a stroke. When he was alive, Mom would always come down and play something for us. But after Dad died, she never sat down to the piano. I guess it's too painful to her."

"I'm sorry" Sam whispered sympathetically. He clearly remembered the day he'd lost his mother. He and his father had been devastated from the loss, but they'd pulled through.

"How are you feeling?" Dean asked suddenly, turning to his servant. Sam startled from the question, but then he remembered the night before.

"I'm better, sir" he answered, turning his head away in shame. "I'm really sorry for the trouble I caused…"

"You didn't cause any trouble" Dean interrupted firmly. "These things happen. You can't control it. I was glad to help."

"Thank you, sir, for helping me" Sam said gratefully.

"And you're not alone here" Dean continued, causing Sam to frown. "If you want to talk to somebody, Alex can be there for you."

"I don't understand…" Sam spoke confused.

"Alex is a hermaphrodite, too. Just like you."

Sam sat there for awhile, just staring in front of him, deep in thought. So Alex has the same difference as him? At least there's someone, who knows what he's going through. Maybe he can talk to him, befriend him easier with this knowledge.

He wandered out of his thoughts at the weight of Dean's gaze on his face. He couldn't help but glance up, although he quickly lowered his gaze after that, scared of punishment. So he was taken by surprise, when a hand brushed his cheek, turning his head towards the man. A thumb caressed the skin under his eyes and he slowly lifted his gaze up into brilliant emeralds.

A long moment dragged itself by them, unblinking eyes staring into each other. The jade orbs held so many emotions that Sam thought he would get lost in them. He felt a small pressure in his heart and mind that came with anticipation. He remembered the full lips of the Master, just begging for a kiss… However, Sam gathered himself together quicker than he thought he could in his state and he turned his head away, breaking contact. He quickly stood up, picked up the hook from the floor and hurried out of the Ballroom.

As he put the hook away after airing the rooms, he turned his back to the closet door, leaned his back onto it and let out a huge sigh. He just couldn't figure out if it was in sadness or relief.

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><p>After Sam disappeared, Dean sat at the piano for a few long minutes. When he heard the piano, he felt something unfamiliar and a little anger let loose in him. Fully intend to find out who played that melody, he wandered downstairs, only to find that boy at the instrument, eyes closed, fingers dancing on the keys swiftly. He knew the boy was well-educated and came from the upper-classes, but he never thought that he would be so talented at the piano.<p>

The song brought out his own memories of his childhood and family, chasing away his anger from the moment before. They were sitting in this room, listening to his mother playing, while his father was reading the newspaper. He missed that time, badly…

Suddenly he noticed the lone tear wandering down Sam's cheek and knew that he was reliving his own memories. Without noticing, Dean was next to his silently crying servant and laid a hand on the trembling shoulder.

As Sam told him about how he learned to play piano, Dean remembered the futile attempts of his mother to teach him to play. Dean was too impatient for those lessons, though. Obeying to a strange urge, he told Sam about his father, surprising himself with that move and his honesty.

When Sam looked up at him briefly, he felt the curiosity overtake him. He wanted to see those hazel eyes again, hopefully without any fear or redness. So he reached out and guided the boy's gaze up. He couldn't decipher what he saw in there, not even now, as he was alone. So many emotions flitted through the hazel orbs in that one moment, and Dean couldn't catch any of them. As he thought about it more, he felt a tightening in his gut and he didn't know what it was. The only thing he knew was that if he concentrated on that feeling, he got the urge to just gaze into that beautiful pair of eyes and taste those thin, curved lips.

Shivering from the thought and from fear, he jumped up and escaped into his room.

_TBC_

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><p><strong>So, how was it? Sorry for the shortness, but I thought this is sweet already, anything else would ruin it. But you tell me that. :)<strong>

**Alright, Read and Review! See you soon!**


	9. You Understand It Now?

**ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**ULTIMATE WARNING IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**AU, OOC. Sadie got a little enthusiastic here, so this is not gonna be a cute little chapter.**

**Hey, guys! Glad to be back with a new chapter. Hope you're gonna like it! I put a tiny little twist in the beginning. And Sadie put a bigger one in the second half. Don't say I didn't warn you! :)**

**So, enjoy the chapter!**

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><p><em>Chapter 9: You Understand It Now?<em>

In the middle of the night the moonlight rained down on the land, giving the mansion and the greenery a silver glow. The rays fell onto a huddled figure sitting on the front stairs, feet planted firmly on the ground in slippers.

Sam escaped from the mansion and into the cool of the evening. He was still a bit perturbed from the moment between him and his Master. He shouldn't have stayed in the Ballroom, when the Master appeared. Now everything is so confusing, his emotions were going haywire every time his thoughts strayed back to Dean. And his jade-green eyes…

Sam shook his head to dismiss his thoughts and fished a small pack from his pocket. Opening it he slid one cigarette out of it and lit it. He took a long drag from the cigarette, letting the bitter taste of the smoke awaken him, hold his mind at bay, before blowing it out.

"What are you doing?" came a soft hushed voice from behind him. Turning around Sam met with Alex, who was standing on the stairs a few steps above him. Sam gave a sheepish smile then turned forward, taking another drag from the cigarette. A few moments later Alex joined him on the step.

"You shouldn't do that" the young man said with a little worry that made Sam chuckle.

"It's not that big of a deal" he muttered. "I'm not a smoker." When he turned to Alex, the young man had a disbelieving look on his face. "Really" Sam continued honestly. "This is my first smoke in this year." Alex looked at him with narrowed eyes, but finally he nodded, like he found the answer to his question. The two of them sat there silently, just enjoying the peace of the evening.

"Can I ask you something?" Sam spoke up, when the cigarette reduced into half.

"Sure."

"Why are you here?" Alex looked surprised at the question.

"Because I was worried about you, since you weren't in bed…" the young man's reply was cut off by the laugh breaking out of Sam.

"That's not what I meant" the boy remarked apologetically. "Why are you here at the mansion? Why are the others here?"

"Oh" Alex blushed slightly in embarrassment. "Well, I'm here because of the same thing as you: I'm a hermaphrodite. When my family and I moved here, the authorities came to us to take me away. They told us about the law about the slavery. It states that every person, who has a difference that forbids them to be of use to the improvement of the society, should be sentenced to slavery, something like that. My difference got me into this. I was told that if I would get pregnant, the baby would take my time away from my task of helping the country, which is kind of ridiculous, in my opinion. I was nineteen years old that time."

"I'm sorry" Sam commented softly, inwardly agreeing with the young man, but Alex just waved him off.

"I had a good life until I was bought by the Master. When he first tasted my cooking, he started treating me even better. He loves food and I have talent for cooking, so we are a good pair."

"And the others?" Sam asked curiously, taking another drag from the cigarette.

"Ramon is a special case" Alex explained. "A few years ago he and his sister were attacked by a racist, and Ramon tried to defend himself. The knife rammed into the guy's chest, instantly killing him. Ramon was trialed and the jury clearly saw it was self-defense. However, even though he was innocent, he still killed a person. So he was sentenced to slavery for the rest of his life. The Master took him under his wings and he was living here ever since.

"And Mark…" Sam raised an eyebrow at the deflated tone of the young man. He was getting more suspicious about the two of them. Was there maybe some affection between them? "Mark got into slavery because of his hindrance."

"Hindrance?" Sam repeated confused. "I didn't see anything like that."

"Not that kind" Alex shook his head sadly. "He's… sort of… fragile. Or more like his mind." Sam was surprised. Mark was mentally unstable? "He has these little episodes, when he's too stressed out… Buried in his own world, not responding to reality, some fits of anger… He broke down almost immediately, when he arrived. Only the Master could help him through it. But later he showed response to me, as well. This is more the reason you came to us: he had an episode just the day before you arrived. He was overloaded with the gardening and cleaning. Master realized that Mark can't have too much on his shoulders, so he took off the bigger weight and gave it to someone else, someone more capable of handling it: you."

"My God" Sam whispered. "I never would've guessed…"

"No one could" Alex murmured dejectedly. "Just like with you and smoking" the young man joked, trying to gather himself together from the painful topic. Sam huffed out a laugh at that and took another long drag from the cigarette.

"I still don't understand" Sam spoke with a sigh, the smoke billowing out of his nose. "Why are you here? Didn't you try to leave or escape?"

"Why should we?" Alex asked with genuine confusion. "We're happy like this. There are Masters or Mistresses out there that could treat us like pieces of garbage. But Mr. Winchester is really kind and compassionate; he always takes care of us as best as he could. He gives us everything we need…"

"What about freedom?" Sam interrupted a bit heatedly. "What about your own life? Your family? Don't you want to get back to them?"

"Oh, Sam" Alex breathed in understanding. "Is this about your father?" Sam turned away from the young man to hide his gathering tears and he took a longer drag from the cigarette, his hand shaking visibly from the suppressed emotions. A small arm wrapped around his back in comfort, and Sam sniffed against the sob trying to break out of him. "We've been thinking about that at first" Alex continued in a soft, caring tone. "But the Master helped so much that we feel like we're already in a family. I know it's hard to be far away from your loved ones, but here you have all of us, who care for you, even the Master. And now we don't want to disappoint the Master with something like an escape attempt. Even with the smallest flaws I feel horrible, because the Master doesn't deserve that kind of payment for his generosity. You don't know that feeling yet. Consider yourself lucky."

Silence filled the air between them as Sam finished with his cigarette, while Alex kept his arm around the boy to keep him together. A few minutes later they returned to the servants' quarter, not noticing the curtain that fell back into its place in the window upstairs.

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><p>The next morning Sam was rudely woken up by a hand roughly and hurriedly shaking his shoulder. With a groan he shot up straight and tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes. He met with Ramon's concerned expression in front of him.<p>

"Wha's goin' on?" Sam mumbled, still trying to focus, his mind jumbled from the abrupt awakening.

"The Master wants to see you" Ramon rushed out and grabbed Sam's wrist, dragging him out of bed. The boy instantly woke up at that, stumbling in the hurry he was pulled out of the room.

"Shouldn't I at least change or something?" he asked, when they rushed straight to the stairs that led to the Master's room.

"We don't have time" Ramon replied, his tone worried. "He's impatient… and pissed."

Sam was shocked to hear that and frightened. He never witnessed the Master's wrath before, but seeing the franticness of the other servant's movements, it was something he should be afraid of. And maybe afraid for his life. Sam shook his head to clear his mind, just as they reached the bedroom door. Ramon took a deep breath, Sam unconsciously mimicking him, before turning the doorknob and stepping in with the boy behind him.

"What the hell took you so long?" came the snapping words from the Master as a greeting.

"He was sleeping, sir" Ramon answered, lowering his gaze to the floor. Sam did the same instantly; if Ramon acted this submissive towards the Master, the man must be really dangerous like this. But what on Earth could have pissed the genuinely kind man off this much?

SLAP!

Sam's thoughts were cut short as his head snapped to the side from the unexpected hit. It wasn't strong enough to hurt too much, just leaving a mild stinging behind as a warning.

"I said seven in the morning!" Dean scolded the boy in a harsh, angry voice. "It's almost eight! You should be doing your chores already!"

Sam didn't dare to speak up, in fear of worsening the rage of his Master, but he had a feeling that the real reason of the anger is still lurking in the darkness, waiting for it to be called forth and kick Sam in the ass hard, now only just laughing at him in a safe distance. He felt his shaking kicking in, welcoming the familiar feeling of fear that had been traveling with him from day one of his captivity. Only Ramon's grip on his wrist, which surprisingly still hasn't let up since Sam was pulled out of bed, kept his panic at bay, not letting him get lost in his terror.

"Maybe you could have woken up in time, if you hadn't snuck out in the middle of the night" Dean hissed, stepping closer. "I brought you into my home, took care of you, when you needed it, comforted you… I trusted you and you just go and break my rules?" Sam's eyes widened at that; the Master saw him outside? But when? How? And what was wrong? Sam didn't break any rules, as far as he knows. There's no curfew for the servants and Sam already snuck out once. It wasn't a problem that time, why was it this time?

"No smoking is allowed!" Dean snarled out, when he didn't get a response from his servant. Sam held back a frown wanting to burst out; his Master was angry because of _that?_ But judging by the soft, self-reprimanding 'Dammit' from Ramon, it was a much, much bigger deal than it should be.

"I'm sorry, sir" Sam murmured, a pang in his heart from the rage pouring out of his Master, "but I didn't know…"

"How dare you talk back to me?" Dean shouted, fisting the front of Sam's T-shirt and yanking him closer. Sam couldn't stop a whimper to escape from him at the aggressive move. The contact with Ramon was torn away from him, leaving no banister to hold onto against the pull of his terror. Suddenly Dean pushed him away…

SMACK!

Sam collapsed onto the ground with a pained cry, landing on his side. He broke his fall with his hands, but he still slid on the floor because of the force of the hit, grazing his palms on the carpet. A little dazed from the backhanding, Sam slowly pulled his arms under him and tried to get up, but his shaking got worse and his strength dissipated as fear took over his mind. He felt something warm dribble down his cheek from the most painful spot of his abused skin; the back of the hand landed on the same side of his face as the slap from earlier. Lying on the ground motionlessly, only his shaking wracking his body, he heard Dean's furious voice again:

"You ever dare to light one more of those filthy sticks on my property, you will get more than this, you understand?"

"Yes, sir" Sam choked out, tears escaping his eyes and landing on the carpeted floor of the bedroom. He pulled his legs to his chest slightly, curling up into an as harmless ball as he managed with his slowly returning strength.

"Sir…" Ramon spoke up the first time since Dean's tirade began, but quickly trailed off, probably from a death glare from his Master, a threat in those jade-green orbs. They were most likely cyanide-green from anger.

"ALEX!" Dean's voice boomed, reaching every corner of the mansion, startling the servants in the room. Sam couldn't breathe for a moment there; the Master saw him with Alex… And if he knew about the rule and didn't stop him… Sam can't let the young man suffer from his mistake. With that he found enough strength to push himself up.

"Sir, please!" he begged quietly. "He didn't do anything wrong! He tried to stop me, I just misunderstood…"

"Then he didn't speak clearly enough" Dean retorted, leaving no room for argument. The door then opened up and Alex stepped in cautiously.

"You called, sir?" he spoke softly. Sam saw the slight tremble of the small form, feeling sorry for the poor young man and extremely guilty that he got him into this mess.

"Get over here!" Dean ordered, pointing to the ground in front of him. Alex hesitated for a moment but obeyed. Dean grabbed the young man's chin and yanked him closer, taking a whiff of Alex's breath, when the servant whimpered from the rough treatment. Seeming satisfied, Dean pushed the young man away then rounded in on him:

"Why didn't you stop him?" he pointed at Sam with a finger, the gesture burning accusation into the boy's skin. Alex tried to answer but he was silenced by the rising voice of his Master. "Why didn't you correct yourself, when he didn't understand? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL HIM THE RULE IN THE FIRST PLACE?"

"I-I…" tears were gathering in Alex's eyes as he finally uttered out a response. "I-I f-forgot…"

Sam lowered his head dejectedly, feeling more horrible than before at the fearful answer. He flinched at the harsh slap that Alex earned with his confession, the young man landing in Ramon's arms from the force. Silence descended on them, as Sam shed his tears of guilt and self-loathing. He heard Dean step closer to him and stop at his side then felt the glare drill into his skull, like a stake into a vampire's chest in those horror movies.

"Instead of wasting your time on unimportant little things like having breakfast" the man spoke quietly, the tone ripping into Sam more than the hitting and screaming, "you're going to catch up with your chores you failed to do in time. But first of all" Dean's voice grew softer and more menacing as he leaned down to Sam threateningly, "you're gonna scrub that disgusting stench out of your mouth! If I see you doing something else when I check on you, you're going to regret picking the habit of smoking 'til the day you die, you understand me?"

"Yes, sir" Sam choked in a whisper. He almost couldn't breath from the fear and pain in his heart. Dean then straightened up and stepped back.

"Out!" he barked, still enraged. Sam quickly jumped up and followed Alex out of the bedroom and down to the servants' quarter. He went straight to the bathroom, ignoring Mark running to Alex in worry. He grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste from the cupboard and started the long, repeated process of brushing his teeth. His tears were still flowing down his cheeks, one or two mixing with the foam of the toothpaste. He noticed the ripped skin where the slap tore his cheek open. The salt in his tears was pricking the injury, but Sam ignored the stinging: he deserved it after all this.

Spitting out the foam, he got more toothpaste on his brush and started it all over again. He tried to drown out the small sobs floating into the bathroom, when Alex went into the bedroom then returned to the kitchen, but it just broke his heart even more. It was his fault that Alex got into this mess, he shouldn't have suffered because of Sam's mistake. He would understand if the young man would never ever talk to him again.

Spitting the foam out again, Sam started on round three. It seemed so long ago that he was sitting at the piano with his Master, sharing a peaceful moment together, gazing into each other's eyes like… Sam swallowed some of the menthol toothpaste, so the cold burning would stop his bad thoughts then returned to his work. How could things turn so fast from good to worst? First he was taken from his happy, carefree life and thrown into a cruel, painful world. Then he was brought into a beautiful home with kind people greeting him with open arms and comforting words, taking care of him when he was sick, and then he does something stupid and screws everyone's life up. Why couldn't something be simple for once?

As he was getting ready to round four, Sam heard the deep voice of his Master in the kitchen. He quickly got back to brushing his teeth, but he almost choked on the foam, as footsteps came closer to the bathroom. He spat it out with a cough, when Dean arrived at the doorway, looking in on Sam with a harsh glare that messaged _'If you're not doing as I ordered, you're gonna be in serious trouble!'_

Sam quickly cleaned himself up, rinsing his mouth out thoroughly then he put his stuff away. Dean walked to him without a word and grabbed his chin, pulling him closer just like Alex. When he took a whiff of the boy's breath, he nodded approvingly. Walking out of the room with Sam in tow, in case his Master wanted something from him, Dean stepped to the closet and began searching in Sam's duffel bag. Soon he pulled out the pack of cigarettes and turned to Sam, shutting the closet door.

"How much?" Dean asked coolly.

"Two or three… tops…" Sam replied quietly, trying not to break down in front of his Master.

"A week? A day?" Dean spat venomously.

"A year…"

The uncertain, shaky voice halted Dean's fury and he just stood there, observing his servant. Sam felt fresh tears glide down his cheek, but miraculously, he still hasn't started sobbing in fear and heartbreak. After a minute of this, Dean took the pack in both hands and bent the whole thing in half, breaking every piece of cigarette like that. He marched into the kitchen, Sam still following him, and threw it into the trashcan.

"Sweep up the porch, clean out my room and vacuum the bedrooms! All of it" Dean ordered firmly, seemingly calmer now.

"Yes, sir" Sam dipped his head forward and Dean left the servants' quarter. As the door of the kitchen shut behind the man, Sam finally looked around.

Only Alex was in the kitchen, cooking breakfast at the stove. Sam saw the reddening cheek clearly and felt even more horrible. But this feeling was squashed down by another: the pain of causing disappointment. It was such a terribly huge weight on his shattered heart and bruised ego that he felt himself crumbling under it. He shouldn't have done this… He was very close to change his mind, when he got up at night to go out, but somehow he decided to sneak out.

"Alex…" Sam spoke, but he got no response from the young man. "I'm so sorry…" When still no answer came, he slumped in defeat and started towards the door to get the broom and the dustpan.

"That's why" came the trembling voice with a sniff of a stuffy nose. When Sam turned back, he saw Alex just standing at the stove, frozen.

"What?" he asked confused.

"You asked why we wouldn't escape" Alex explained, voice wavering from the sobs trying to break out. "The pain you feel right now… That's why…"

Sam swallowed heavily, his throat closing up from the tight grip of the truth. Yes, now he understood it. Clear as day.

_TBC_

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><p><strong>So, how was it? Please, Read and Review!<strong>

**I hope I can come up with something good for the next chapter. Until then, see you!**


	10. Forgive Me

**ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1! (Except Gerald Winchester... You'll see soon.)  
><strong>

**ULTIMATE WARNING IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**AU, OOC. Mildly minor SLASH. :D (Very, very, VERY minor, but it's there.)**

**FINALLY! -wipes sweat off forehead, Sadie snoring and purring beside the computer- I just can't believe how hard it was to write this chapter.**

**Hey, everyone! I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting so long. Hope I didn't (and won't) lose any of my dear Readers!**

**I hope you will like this chapter. It has some of its top moments, but I'm scared that I may have let loose a little bit with its usual level. Can you tell me? I'm really hoping this chappy is as good as the previous ones are.**

**I spent all this time to think up the argument in here. It was TORTURE! But then I finally got it. Hope it's okay and as usual, if you don't understand something, ask/tell me and I'll explain. Okay? Good.**

**Onto the chappy! Enjoy!**

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><p><em>Chapter 10: Forgive Me<em>

Sam quickly threw his sweatpants and shirt on then hurried to the supply closet to get the broom and the dustpan. As he was thoroughly sweeping up the front porch, he saw Mark examining the hedge but he kept his eyes lowered in shame. He didn't know how the young man was feeling about him getting Alex into trouble. He'd noticed the connection between the two for a while now, and he would understand if Mark didn't speak to him.

After finishing the porch, Sam almost ran back to the closet to get the vacuum cleaner, ignoring the delicious scents of breakfast wafting through the air and his stomach seeking attention. He dragged the surprisingly heavy vacuum cleaner up the stairs and to the Master's bedroom. He knocked on the door hesitantly, a bit scared of his Master, but no answer came.

When he cautiously stepped in, he heard the rush of water in the bathroom. The Master was probably having a shower. Sam neatly made the bed then turned to the vacuum cleaner to put it together. Soon the machine's engine came on, filling the whole room with its slightly deafening roar and leaking out to the other parts of the mansion. As he pushed and pulled on the head, he let himself be drifted away by the monotone movements and forget about his surroundings. However, he was finished with the room too quickly for his liking.

As he turned the machine off, he heard the bathroom door close. Before he could look up, footsteps stomped over to the bedroom door and after opening and closing it, they died away, leaving Sam in the suffocating silence. Before he could be overwhelmed by the Master's distant behavior, the memory of that afternoon still too vivid in his mind, he walked into the bathroom and collected the laundry.

As he walked through the kitchen with the basket, he noticed Alex's absence and wondered where he could be. When he walked through the kitchen to go back upstairs, he caught sight of the young man through the window, talking with Mark quietly in the backyard. He felt a smile tug at his lips at the scene, instantly finding the golden thread of the connection between them. He ascended the stairs with a higher spirit, happy for his – hopefully – friend.

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><p>Sam slowly went over the bedrooms upstairs, losing himself in the motions and forgetting about his troubles and surroundings. He ignored the slight pounding in his head, chalking it up to lack of sleep since he was rudely woken up this morning. One moment he straightened up from his work, thinking he heard something through the roar of the vacuum cleaner but after a shrug he returned to his task.<p>

As he was working, his mind drifted away from his thoughts of guilt and causing disappointment, only paying attention to the way he was pushing the head, avoiding any unnecessary meetings with the furniture. The constant hum of the machine drowned out every noise outside the room and inside his mind. He almost began humming a song, his brain making out the melody from the zooming.

Finally he reached the last room and he shut the vacuum cleaner off. His shirt stuck to his torso from sweat, but he was breathing easier, feeling the workout affecting his muscles. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, swiping his sticky bangs into their place. He unplugged the machine then started dragging it out of the bedroom with more effort than he'd begun, which surprised him a little. He decided to go down the main staircase instead of taking a detour in the back hallways.

As he closed the door and started down the corridor, the world spun around him quite fast. The vacuum cleaner landed from quivering fingers on the floor with a muffled crash, but Sam didn't hear it from the ringing in his ears. He lifted a hand to his forehead, the other reaching to the side for banister. With that move the world spun faster and tilted to the side.

The next thing he knew he was on the ground, leaning against the wall with his side, the corridor still spinning around him like crazy. He felt his whole body shiver from the sweat breaking out on him and from the exhaustion of his muscles. His vision blurred, causing his stomach to churn from the whirling haze. He tried to call out for help, but his mouth was so dry and stuffy, he couldn't get himself to speak. He was sure now that he was cursed: he screws up everyone's life and manages to get himself sick at the same time. This could only happen to him…

His head began pounding as his thoughts ran wild, breaking a broken, hoarse whimper out of him. He hadn't even noticed how thirsty he was: his throat was killing him. He wanted to close his eyes against the spinning in front of him, but he was afraid that the darkness would pull him under. He was already feeling the force of it, trying to fight against it.

"Sam?" he heard a deep, concerned voice then a hand landed on his shoulder and steadied him. The spinning slowed down somewhat and he could make out dark brown irises, olive skin and dark hair. Ramon came to save him. "Did you fall?"

"'M'zzy…" Sam slurred, feeling like his mouth was stuffed with cotton. "'El…"

"Sam, try to focus!" Ramon ordered, raising his voice a little. His warm hands cradled the boy's impossibly white face. He gazed into glazed hazel eyes that were trying to see him. "What happened?" Sam blinked at the man owlishly then began sliding forwards. Ramon quickly gathered the boy in his arms, shifting him so he could look him in the eye again. "Hey!" he tapped at Sam's sweaty cheeks, worried when he met with shut eyelids, but luckily they fluttered open. "Let's get you downstairs, okay buddy?"

Not expecting an answer, Ramon heaved the limp body up, draping an arm around his shoulders, while keeping his own on Sam's back. He sighed with relief when he noticed Sam trying to get his legs under himself. They slowly started towards the stairs, Sam stumbling on his own two feet. If Ramon didn't know any better he would think the boy was drunk. Reaching the stairs the man realized that Sam won't be able to make that trip in one piece, so he lifted him up into his arms bridal style and carried him downstairs into the kitchen, hoping Alex would know what was wrong.

"Bloody hell!" Ramon's mind eased up a little, when he heard Alex's soft voice and the young man ran to them. "What happened?" Alex asked, laying a hand on Sam's sweaty cheek. The boy didn't react to the touch, scaring the others more.

"I found him upstairs" Ramon explained as he sat Sam into a chair at the kitchen table. Alex quickly kneeled before the boy, worried azures taking in the pale features. "He's really out of it, but I don't know why."

"Get a blanket!" Alex ordered rubbing at Sam's shaking limbs. The boy's glazed look into nothingness scared him. The older man hurried away. "Sam, can you tell me what's wrong?" he asked concerned. Instead of a reply, Sam's upper-body tilted forward with a tired sigh, straight into Alex's arms. "It's okay, I've got you" the young man whispered, straining to keep Sam's weight up.

"'M't'red" Sam slurred. His eyelids felt heavy and his head was still pounding from the wavering haze in front of him.

"Try to stay awake!" Alex ordered firmly, just as Ramon returned with a blanket. "Just for a little longer, alright?" Together they covered the shivering boy and leaned him back against the chair. Alex jumped up and hurried to the cupboards, while Ramon held Sam up by his shoulders. He smirked when he heard the usually calm young man behind him cursing the stars down from the skies.

After a few moments Alex kneeled back to Sam with a glass of water in his hand.

"Drink this" Alex coached Sam, lifting the glass to the boy's lips. Sam, feeling the cool liquid on his tongue, began gulping the water down greedily. The strangely sweet water washed his parched throat down, the stuffy feeling in his mouth disappearing without a trace. The glass was soon emptied, but when Alex pulled it away, Sam strained to reach for it, wanting more. Ramon's hands on his shoulders held him back.

"Why don't we get you into bed?" Alex asked softly, stroking the boy's still too pale cheek. "I'm sure you'd feel better lying on a soft mattress than sitting on a hard chair, wouldn't you?" Between the two of them Alex and Ramon helped the boy up and escorted him to his bed. Ramon helped Sam into it, leaning him against the headboard, propping up the pillows behind the boy's back. Meanwhile, Alex returned to the kitchen, piling food onto a plate. Soon he was sitting on the edge of Sam's bed, feeding the boy slowly, who groggily accepted every bite, a loud grumble indicating how hungry he was.

"Before you ask" Alex muttered to Ramon, his tone still a little angry, "his blood-sugar level hit a bloody hole in the floor." Ramon sighed in understanding. He never thought the kid would be this stupid. A little while later, Alex stood up and stroked Sam's face again, his touch and movements screaming of mothering. "Have some rest" he whispered, pressing a concerned, but soothing kiss onto Sam's still clammy forehead. The boy closed his eyes with a soft sigh and soon drifted away into a light sleep, not hearing the quiet footsteps floating away or the tiny creak of the closing bedroom-door.

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><p>The next time Sam woke up, it was still mid-afternoon, he was still groggy, but his head was much clearer. He carefully straightened up, feeling the pressure of a dizzy spell or headache at the back of his skull. He shakily got out of bed, feeling hunger and thirst gnawing at his stomach and throat. As he rubbed his eyes, trying to get the sleep out of them, he winced at the stinging rearing its head up in his cheek, when his hand brushed against the injury. At that, anger filled him towards the Master.<p>

How did that arrogant prick dare to do this to him? He had no right to treat him this harshly for a simple stick of cigarette! There is no excuse for his behavior! He can't abuse a human being like this without a reason- no, he can't abuse a human being, period. He didn't know which alternative reality that egotistical, self-absorbed… _asshole_ was living, but Sam wasn't going to take his crap without a word, obediently like a dog! With those thoughts in his mind he walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

The other slaves were in there, as well, apparently on a break from their tasks. When Sam stepped into the room, every head snapped to his way, watching him attentively. Sam felt ashamed at the obvious worry in the eyes: they waited for him to collapse any moment either from exhaustion or emotional trauma. Sam felt a scowl slip onto his features as he plopped down into a chair boneless, weakly holding himself up with trembling arms. Alright, maybe they had a right to be concerned, but, honestly…

"How are you feeling, Sam?" Alex asked, trying for a cheerful tone to distract the others. He was preparing dinner for the Master, seemingly making the finishing touches on the food. Sam guessed he hadn't been sleeping for so long.

"Crappy" he snapped back, feeling his anger return with full force. "Thanks to that dick of a Master…"

He missed the hardening of dark brown eyes and ignored the slight flinch from Mark. Alex's cheerfulness flew out the window so fast like a bird being let out of a cage.

"Sam…" Alex sighed, turning towards the boy. "He just did what he had to. A Master has to have control over the slaves, punishing them if they step out of line…"

"Just because a group of 'civilized' people labeled us as slaves and degraded us 'cause they were scared from the abnormal, doesn't mean they have a right to treat us this way and to take our rights away. We are just as much of human beings as them" Sam replied heatedly, his fist landing on the tabletop with a weak thud. He hid the wince of pain that the move caused, not letting the others know how this exhausted him more.

Alex rubbed a hand down his face exasperatedly. Mark kept his eye on Ramon wearily, finally noticing the dark look burning through the table. The tightly clenched fists were shaking almost unnoticeably, as the man tried to gather and hold his self-control together.

"Look" Alex continued a little frustration seeping into his voice. "There was a rule in this house-"

"Which I didn't even know about!" Sam cut him off in a raised voice.

"Regardless, you broke it!" Alex cried out, stunning Sam for a moment. He never witnessed the peaceful young man losing it. "And it's the Master's duty to take matters in his own hands and punish you as you deserve."

"I didn't deserve this!" Sam shouted, jumping onto his feet but falling back with a sway. His anger turned into rage at the betrayal of his own body to appear strong. "I know my rights and I know he has no right to raise a hand against me for any reason! And his reason for hitting me was unjust! It was one cigarette and he blew it out of proportion! He should be arrested for physical abuse!"

Alex just glared at Sam, seemingly calmer after his outcry. He waited for Sam to finish his tirade before speaking softly up:

"This is the way things are here. If you can't accept that, don't come crying to us, when you get punishment after punishment-"

"I'm not gonna let dicks like this self-centered douchebag treat me this unjustly for something as trivial as smoking!" Sam exploded again, angered by the uncaring reply he got. "What does he care if I smoke one cigarette? He doesn't have any right to tell me what I can do to myself. I don't give a shit about him being the Master. He can shove his title up next to that stick in his ass-" He was cut off by a pair of hands grabbing onto his collar and shoving him up against the wall. The chair he was sitting in clattered onto the ground, cutting through the tense silence like a knife through butter.

Sam looked up, his face contorted in pain: his back hit the concrete hard, ripping the air out of his lungs. When he opened his eyes, he met with flashing, furious dark-brown eyes an inch from his own frightened hazel ones.

"Ramon!" Alex shouted, breaking out of his stupor and running to the enraged man. He tried to pull Ramon away from Sam, his azure irises filled with terror at the look on Ramon's face. Sam clawed at the hands holding him against the wall, shaking from fear, even slightly afraid for his life. Despite the height difference, Sam felt small in the blaze of the fury shooting out of the man's eyes. Ramon's lips were trembling, low growls escaping from him and the boy knew he was a second away from snarling like a rabid dog.

"Ramon!" Mark's voice broke through the staring contest of the two, as the young man gripped Ramon's fists and gently tugged. "Let him go!" Mark ordered with quiet firmness. Long seconds passed until the hold on Sam's collar loosened then let up. When Ramon was a safe distance away from Sam, Mark turned him away, but Ramon snatched his arms out of the young man's hold and stormed out of the kitchen and the servants' quarter.

Sam was still leaning against the wall, staring at the place where Ramon's fierce glare was a moment ago. He was gasping for breath, trying to slow his hammering heart down in his chest. His brain wasn't able to process what just happened. Why would Ramon attack him? Why would he want to… _hurt him?_

"You want a proper reason?" came Mark's cold voice, snapping his mind back from the daze. Sam turned his wide eyes to the young man, listening. "Then here's what happened." Sam felt himself crumble from the stabbing glare Mark sent him.

"Dean's father, John Winchester died when Dean was a boy" Mark started, surprising Sam and even Alex with him addressing the Master by his name. "It was a stroke. Dean was twelve years old. He had to become the head of the mansion and the family. Only his mother stood by his side, helping him through thick and thin, but it was too much for either of them. One day, when Dean was fourteen, his uncle arrived to the mansion. He was searching for a place to stay for quite a while. Of course, they accepted him.

"After a few months, Dean found out that his uncle was smoking. He was going through packs and packs of cigarettes 24/7. Dean and his mother tried to reason with him to stop before it's too late. They tried to get him to rehab, they tried different doctors, anything, but nothing was working. His uncle was just lighting up stick after stick, barely any break between them.

"Then, they found out that his uncle had cancer in his lung and stomach." Sam gulped at that, feeling a sudden pain in his heart, pretty sure where this was going. "Dean and his mother took him in, obviously, since he was family after all. They treated him, cared for him, once Dean tried to steal the old man's cigarette. He hasn't ever received such a harsh verbal abuse in his life. They couldn't do anything for him, though, just helping him through the pain and sickness from the chemotherapy. Eventually, however, he passed away. In this house."

"What does that have to do with me?" Sam asked softly.

"You don't get it, do you?" Mark bristled slightly. "He had to watch his uncle die. You know what his name was?" Sam shook his head a little. "Gerald Winchester." The name made Sam's eyes widen in understanding. "Dean had to watch his uncle, the only brother of John Winchester, the only link to the father he devoted on, loved with his whole heart, looked up to, slowly wither away by the torture of cancer and chemotherapy. Which was caused and started by a simple stick of cigarette. 'Something as trivial as smoking', right?"

Sam gulped at that, hearing the venom in his own words break his strong façade. He couldn't even imagine what Dean could have gone through emotionally by that. Sam didn't even know what he would do if he had to go through this. He probably couldn't have looked at a cigarette, could've felt sick just from the thought of it.

"If you haven't noticed yet" Mark spoke again, his tone now softer, "Dean cares about you. Isn't this a good enough reason for the punishment you deserved? … Maybe you didn't deserve it, since we forgot to tell you" Mark said after a brief pause. "But now you can see why he did what he did."

The injury on Sam's cheek began aching as he remembered the slap he'd gotten from Dean. Now that he thought about it, he had seen something in Dean's eyes just before lowering his head in submission: fear had been peeking out behind the fury in those jade-green irises. Dean was afraid of losing him… But why? Why was Sam so important for the Master that he'd gotten so harsh and cruel with him? Maybe he'd been acting on his fear, trying to intimidate Sam to stop his unhealthy habit.

Suddenly every moment of his weaknesses and sick times he'd had in this place came back to him. The gentle touches, the worried looks, the care… Dean had even stayed with him and calmed him down when he'd had that injection. He was always there beside him, helping and comforting him through his fits… Then a fresher memory floated into his mind: a sunlit room, a piano, a light touch on his cheek, turning his face towards that piercing pair of eyes, full of care and…

Sam startled himself out of his thoughts: he found himself alone in the kitchen. Alex and Mark must have left the room, leaving him alone to process everything he heard. Sam felt the now familiar pain in his chest and he recognized it: it was the same pain he felt this morning, the same pain Alex was talking about last night and in the morning…

It was his heart breaking.

* * *

><p>Sam slowly left the servants' quarter to retrieve the vacuum cleaner from the upstairs hallway. As he was ascending the steps, he heard a soft knock from the right. Turning that way, he caught a glimpse of Ramon, stepping into the… Master's Bedroom?<p>

Confused, Sam crept up the stairs and to the door that was left open, barely registering the fact that the vacuum cleaner has already vanished. As he reached the door, he heard Ramon's soft voice:

"Sir, you alright?"

And then…

Soft sniffs.

A hiccup.

Sam couldn't believe it. The Master was…

_Crying._

Sam crept closer to the door, realizing that only one wing was left open. He peeked around the closed wing and saw Dean sitting curled up on the couch, Ramon standing next to him. Sam felt his broken heart shatter into more pieces at the sight of the damp face, the beautiful jades glinting from tears… Beautiful? He shouldn't think about his Master like that.

Sam thought that Dean hadn't heard Ramon's question, but then the man took a shaky breath and choked out:

"I miss him…"

Sam saw Ramon's shoulders droop then after a few silent seconds he sat down next to his Master. The next moment halted Sam's mind so hard that he thought his brain would smash through the top of his skull.

"C'mere" Ramon said softly and pulled Dean into his arms, the man snuggling into the man's chest, seeking comfort. "Shhshshshhh, Dean, it's okay…"

Sam just couldn't believe it: Ramon was hugging his Master and _calling him by his name!_ And Dean was _letting him!_ He watched as Ramon stroked the blond tresses comfortingly, rubbing his other hand down the trembling back and across the hitching shoulders.

"I d… didn't mean…" Dean sobbed out silently.

"I know" Ramon rocked his Master slowly. "They know. It's alright…"

"H-Heard 'im… I miss h-him…"

It went like this the whole time: Dean sobbing his feelings out in quiet, broken words and Ramon soothing them away gently and softly. Sam looked at the once strong and dangerous Master and saw a terrified, lost little boy, needing the comfort and love, needing an adult to get the weight off his shoulders. He had a feeling that this will be the only time he would see the raw person behind the hard shell and walls. He felt his own tears glide down his cheeks, not able to bear witnessing the ruins of a destroyed past and childhood. He pressed a hand onto his mouth to push back the sobs attempting to explode out of him and took deep, silent breaths to calm himself down. Finally, Dean pulled away from Ramon's arms.

"Th-this stays between us, right?" he asked drying his eyes. As Dean spoke, Sam felt his sobs retreating back into his lungs from shock: Ramon turned to the door, pinning his dark eyes into Sam's hazel ones.

"Yes, sir" he answered softly, eyes narrowing slightly. Sam understood: he nodded then disappeared from the door. As he walked back to the servants' quarter, he wiped his face down, removing any evidence of being witness to the scene from before.

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><p>Sam was sitting in his room, still recovering from his newest stupidity. He still felt shaky and weak and if he turned his head one way, the room would wave in front of him. Alex had already been here, promising him food, leaving some juice on the bedside table. Sam shifted against the pillows propped up behind him, leaning his head against the wall above the headboard. He was tired but he couldn't fall asleep from the loud growling in his stomach.<p>

Sam closed his eyes with a small groan. What had he been thinking? He should've known not to overexert himself on an empty stomach. He cursed his idiotic mind that had urged him to finish his task without a break. He knew he'd heard it right that one time: he'd been called to lunch.

Suddenly, he started rubbing at his chest. He just couldn't steer his mind away from the scene he'd watched earlier. He didn't know someone so strong can reduce to someone that weak and small. He knew his Master was entitled to have a breakdown, and ever since he heard his background, he wished he could've been the one to comfort him. All those horrible things he said about him… He was so sure he was right about the slavery, that his anger was just and righteous, but, as always, his pride deceived him, hid the truth away from him. His father had always told him that his temper will get him in trouble one day. And it did.

He just couldn't forget the sight of his Master broken down. His heart was still breaking from the sight, almost causing him physical pain. After a while he stopped rubbing his chest, accepting defeat against lessening the pain in there. With a sigh he made another attempt to fall into a light slumber.

This time a knock interrupted his efforts.

As Sam slowly opened his eyes, surprised by how hard it was to do, he heard the door open and close. Looking that way, expecting Alex to stand at the door, he was in for a surprise.

"Master?" the title slipped out, before Sam could kick-start his brain at the sight of the man in the room. He quickly got out of bed – or as quickly as he could with his shaky limbs – and turned to his Master, lowering his head obediently. There was no response to his actions for a short while then Dean stepped cautiously closer.

"I heard what happened" the man spoke a bit hoarsely. If Sam hadn't known any better, he would've thought the man had a cold, judging by his voice. "I… I realized how harsh I've been with you this morning. You didn't know about the rule… I just thought the others have told you."

"No, sir" Sam commented softly. "They didn't."

"Yeah" Dean breathed awkwardly. "Um, I'm… I'm sorry for being so cruel to you. I just… have a hard time with… smoking…" Sam heard the shudder in Dean's voice, but the man quickly cleared his throat to cover it up. "I just want to say that I'm sorry. And…" he began searching in his pockets. "I don't want you to feel like I want to control everything you do, so… Here."

Sam lifted his head slightly and saw in Dean's outstretched hand a new pack of cigarettes. His heart took up a faster rhythm at the meaning he saw in this small gesture. He felt warmth spreading throughout his body and butterflies in his stomach. He slowly reached out and took the small packet from Dean. The man lowered his hand and turned to leave.

As Dean reached for the doorknob, he heard a small crack behind him. He turned back and his eyes widened: Sam was holding out the pack of cigarettes he bought for him, the small box bent in half.

"I promise to pay it back, sir" Sam remarked quietly, his stance strong despite the aura of exhaustion around him. Dean slowly walked back in front of Sam and took the ruined pack back with wonder. They stood in silence for a few seconds, Sam waiting for the master's next move, while Dean was gazing at the little pack in his hands.

He knew a gesture for what it was: Sam just promised him to stop smoking. Why, he couldn't understand. But the fact he would do this, made Dean feel kind of warm inside. What was this boy doing to him? Why was he pulled towards this shy, withdrawn, beautiful person so much? Dean blinked at his thoughts. Maybe he found the answer for his question?

He took a good look at the boy in front of him. He heard how Sam collapsed in the afternoon and the toll of it was still too visible for his own liking. The boy's young features were pale, almost as white as the wall, and he saw some shade of purple under the lowered eyes. The boy's whole body was trembling with the effort to stay upright, but Sam did it, using his sheer will to hold himself up, and Dean felt the respect sent towards him.

Then he remembered the afternoon at the piano. How his anger vanished in a moment when he saw the graceful movements of Sam's fingers. How he felt the need to open up to him about his father, even just a little bit. How he was overwhelmed with the urge to see the hazel crystals again, not for just a fleeting moment, but for longer, for ever… How he felt the strong longing to taste the thin lips, to feel the soft skin…

Pocketing the ruined packet, Dean stepped closer to his servant. He saw a small flinch of fear run through Sam's body, so he moved slowly, not to frighten the boy. He lifted his hand and caressed the dear face with his fingertips. He felt the skin under them warm up and saw a little pink flooding it with a shy blush. Dean gently grasped the boy's chin and lifted Sam's head up. Sam instantly raised his eyes to Dean's, just gazing into them in awe, wonder and… something else Dean couldn't make out.

"Thank you" he breathed gratefully. A small, timid smile spread onto Sam's face in response, the blush deepening in color as Dean caressed the boy's cheek again. Sam turned his head away shyly, Dean marveling in the adorable sight in front of him. Oh, how he longed to just press his lips against Sam's cheek right now, to pull him in his arms…

His thoughts were interrupted by the boy's whimper, and then he found himself with an armful of a trembling Sam, who tried to stay conscious. Dean pulled him closer to hold him up, holding the boy's head in the crook of neck, soothingly caressing the brown tresses that already grown a little bit, curling slightly as they lengthened.

"Sir?" Dean looked over his shoulder to find Alex in the doorway of the bedroom. The young man had a tray of food in his hands. Dean lifted Sam into his arms and put him into bed. He let Alex feed Sam, keeping an attentive watch over them then he stayed with the boy until he fell asleep. Breathing a little easier, Dean left the servants' quarter, throwing the ruined pack of cigarettes into the trash in the kitchen.

_TBC_

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><p><strong>So, how was it? Wasn't that bad, right? I think the two took a TINY step forwards. Don't worry, I'll speed it up soon. I already have some ideas.<strong>

**Speaking of ideas, can you help me with a little naming? I don't know how to name Newbie. Do you have any ideas to share? (Not Ryan, please. It's too obvious. :))**

**Thanks and Read and Review! See you soon!**


	11. Mistress?

**ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!  
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**ULTIMATE WARNING IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**AU, OOC. Mentions of SLASH.  
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**Hey, everyone!  
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**I'm sorry for being so late. I can only offer the usual excuse: life. But now I'm back with a chapter! YAY!  
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**This started as an Interlude, but it ran away with me. Now it's more than 9 pages long! That's quite good, isn't it? Also, this contains some angst, some humour, some fluff, and an attempt at British swearing (sorry if the latter doesn't work out, I did my best). I hope you'll be satisfied!  
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**One last thing: if you're not gonna hear from an update to this story, don't worry! I'm going to work on the next chapters pretty hard and I'll try to get them up here as soon as possible. And to everyone's joy, it will contain some ACTUAL SLASH! Isn't that worth the wait already? :D  
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**So, here's the new chapter. Enjoy!**

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><p><em>Chapter 11: Mistress?<br>_

Days slowly passed turning into weeks, everything returning to the normal routine, as signs of the autumn crept into the last weeks of the summer and the last days of August. Sam's latest sickness had passed without a hitch and he could step back into his duties as if nothing had happened. Although he was ashamed by his stunt he'd involuntarily pulled, the others didn't even mention the incident.

After the apologies between him and the Master the air wasn't as tense as before with the two in one room. Dean was kind and friendly with Sam, who in turn obeyed his orders without complaints and finally felt completely comfortable calling his Master 'sir'. On the other hand, since he remembered everything from that day, Sam couldn't get the Master out of his head. He could never forget those heart-wrenching sobs that came from the strong man he met everyday, even if for a moment. The urge to be the one who would comfort him and be a shoulder to cry on was powerful every occasion he was close to the Master and it scared him.

What made their… _relationship_, if you could call it that, still tense, were the other instinctive reactions that wanted to break out of Sam, when his gaze just landed on the man. Dean was attractive, _very_ attractive, but from what Sam remembered from his ill periods, the Master was also kind, compassionate and caring, just like Sam wished for the 'One' to be. Also Dean had an aura of composure that would be able to cool Sam's hot-headedness down.

It didn't help his situation that when the Master wormed his way into his mind, Sam would be flown back into a memory, making his heart long for that stolen moment they'd experienced without the weight of the real world. When Sam was in the Ballroom he often glanced at the piano, gathering his courage to sit down again and play something, but his bravery was thrown out the window almost as soon as it appeared.

As time went by, Sam realized that he couldn't do anything about his predicament… yet. So, in turn, he would concentrate on his fellow servants, namely Mark and Alex.

He couldn't help but notice the awkward but cute dancing of the two around each other. For all this while he spent his time with observation, trying to come up with something to help those two finally take that step forward and towards each other. Sam noticed the fleeting glances and eyeing, Alex always blushing like mad and Mark smirking in victory all the while; the almost unnoticeable touches on the arm or the small of the back, followed by embarrassed flushes and avoiding the other for a few minutes…

Sam knew he had to… _help_ his friends, so when he had time – which he had a lot, thanks to the monotony of his work – he spent it with thinking up the best plan to speed the process a bit. As the last week of August rolled in Sam had the beginning of a plan in his head, which he intended to get to fruition as soon as possible. When he returned from doing the laundry, he was ready to take his step.

Unfortunately, Fate had other ideas.

As Sam stepped into the kitchen, he was greeted by a happy, excited cry. When he recovered from his surprise, Sam looked around and found Mark releasing Ramon's neck, who was laughing at the young man's enthusiasm, and barely caught the sour look on Alex's face, before he hid it behind a smile.

"What's going on?" Sam asked confused. The others turned to him with a look that clearly said: _'Oh, right, you don't know.'_

"The Master just informed me" Ramon spoke. "We're gonna have a guest for the next week."

"Guest?" Sam swallowed in fear. How would a guest react to his presence? How would _he_ react to theirs? "Who?"

"The Mistress!" Mark cried with joy and turned back to the others, chattering away happily.

Sam froze on his spot as he heard it. The Mistress? Who could she be? Is it a relative of Dean's… or his girlfriend? Maybe even his fiancée… Sam felt his throat constrict painfully from that thought and he felt like the walls had closed in on him. However, he couldn't escape from the room. He didn't want the others to know… and he was too upset to move.

The hazy fantasies broke into pieces in his mind, shattering his heart with the force of it. How could he have been so stupid? How could he think that a superior would be attracted to their servant? How could he hope that maybe… maybe Dean would be the one…? He felt the sobs pushing their way upwards from his lungs, but he swallowed against them, fighting with all of his might.

Then just to torment him, the picture of a sunlit room and a piano slid into his mind. His heart was hurting from the memory of that gentle touch on his cheek and the sight of those piercing jade-green eyes. It was a moment he cherished all this time. It was rekindling the flames of hope every time Sam saw or met his Master. It fooled him into thinking he had a chance, despite the circumstances against him.

But life doesn't work that way, does it? It's never been like in the books or the movies. Real life was cruel and unfair, not sappy and romantic. It never ends with a happy ending. That's an illusion that people want to achieve, making them work harder and harder for it, but they would never be able to reach it. Just like perfection… or true love…

Sam couldn't bear the pain, which has grown in his heart with every line of thought, as they ran through his mind. Tears filled his hazel-green eyes, one rolling down his cheek with a gentle, somewhat soothing caress. Sam quickly turned his head away to hide it and carefully wiped its glittering track away. When he looked back, he noticed Alex watching him worriedly. Sam nodded with a shaky smile, inwardly begging to the young man to leave it, to believe he was fine. He saw the doubt in Alex's azure eyes, but luckily he didn't say a word and turned back to the others, smiling tenderly at Mark's happiness.

Pushing his own pain and hopelessness down, Sam decided to return to his task of getting Alex and Mark together. He already had a plan how to do it and no one, not even the _Mistress's _– he tried to leave the venom out of his thoughts – unsuccessfully – arrival could stop him. He had time to grieve for himself and his heart later.

* * *

><p>The very next day the whole mansion was abuzz – even though only the five of them lived there. Alex was getting the plans of the meals ready for the guest, sitting by the table every time Sam glanced into the kitchen, surrounded by piles of crumpled papers. Mark was bustling about in the garden, trimming the bushes, watering the garden, mowing the lawn and so on. Ramon was doing errands and taking inventory of everything – and that meant <em>everything<em>: food, cleaning products, toiletries, you name it.

Sam just shook his head at their frantic behavior. Although, he had his own fair share of the work, he still made time to think and plan his moves to help Mark and Alex. His first mission was to get to know the two better, looking for a point where Sam could step forward. He was on a look-out for a chance to start it and an opportunity rose on a sunlit afternoon.

Sam was washing the dishes, Alex drying them and putting them away next to him. They were working for quite a while in repetitiveness, when Sam jumped as Alex threw a plate into the cupboard and slammed its door shut irritated.

"You okay?" Sam asked cautiously. Alex harrumphed but didn't answer. After a few moments Sam caught his friend muttering something, understanding only one word of it: _'Mistress'_ Sam realized he wasn't the only one troubled with the arrival of the guest.

"I thought you were happy about it" Sam remarked quietly.

"Oh, I'm ecstatic" Alex snapped out. "Don't I look like it? I'm just over the bloody moon- Oh, bugger!"

Sam snapped his head towards his friend just as a clatter echoed in the kitchen: a knife slipped out of Alex's hands as he tried to wipe it despite his fury.

"Sodding piece of- Argh!" Alex growled picking the knife up and flinging it into the drawer, banging it closed with such a force, the whole counter shook from it. Alex then chucked the dish-towel he was using onto the countertop then buried his face in his hands, breathing deeply to settle his emotions down. Sam wiped his hands down on his sweatpants, all the while trying to convince himself that what he'd seen was real, it had really happened.

"Hey" he spoke carefully, not very keen on aggravating the young man's mood. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm fine" Alex replied a bit too quickly.

"You expect me to believe that?" Sam asked with a smirk.

"I told you, it's nothing! It's irrational and stupid and so bloody ridiculous like never before…" Alex's rant was cut off by Sam pulling him into a comforting hug. Feeling the slight protectiveness in the gesture, the young man broke down into sobs, going limp in the boy's arms. Sam held his friend up, rocking him slowly, caressing the ebony tresses. He had a suspicion about the other's problem.

"Why aren't you happy?" he asked. "The others can't wait for her arrival, especially Mark…"

"It wasn't me…" Alex choked out, his voice muffled by Sam's shirt.

"What?" Sam frowned confused.

"He wasn't happy about me…" Alex cried, gasping for air. "I just…"

"I know" Sam sighed, tightening his hold on his friend, laying his head on the other's. "You just want to be the center of his attention… I know…" he closed his eyes in pain, thinking about Dean, his heart lurching in his chest from mourning his dashed hope. They stood there for a couple of minutes, comforting each other silently then Alex pulled away, wiping his eyes.

"Th-thanks" he murmured.

"You're welcome" Sam squeezed his friend's shoulder. With that they returned to the dishes.

"Can I ask you something?" Sam spoke after another few minutes.

"Go ahead" Alex was now back to his quiet, peaceful self.

"What do you think" Sam started uncertainly, "about Mark?"

Alex froze for a moment then continued to wipe the spoon in his hand.

"Why do you ask?" came the question but Sam already had an answer for it:

"I don't really know about him, so I thought I'd ask you. You two seemed closer. But I can ask Ramon…"

"No, no" Sam hid a smile at the expected response. "He arrived after me. The Master took him in because he wanted to protect him from crueler owners. You know…" Sam nodded, handing another spoon to Alex. At first he was scared like everyone would be, but after a while it turned out that he's quite nice and funny, he befriends everybody so easily… Sometimes he can be a little immature but, oh, well…" Alex's gaze unfocused as he got lost in his memories of Mark. Sam smiled when the spoon was lowered, forgotten for a while. After a few seconds the young man snapped back to reality and the present and returned to the drying.

"Can I tell you something?" Alex asked a bit fearfully after a silent inner-conflict.

"'Course" Sam replied without hesitation.

"Ever since I found out about being a hermaphrodite" Alex began, "I noticed that I was a bit more… girlish than usual. It could be because I had a sister…"

"What do you mean by girlish?" Sam asked. Alex blushed ten shades of red at that.

"Well, and don't laugh, I often dreamt about my first kiss and even my wedding" Alex paused, probably waiting for the teasing, but Sam just nodded to him to go on, an idea suddenly forming in his head. "And I wasn't afraid of my thoughts and feelings, or upset because of them, but rather proud and happy. I think it would also be wonderful to carry a life inside me, to help create it with someone…"

Sam had a good guess who Alex wanted that someone to be. Now he decided to step further in his plan.

"What were you dreaming about for your first kiss?" he asked casually, but inside he was excited and hopeful. Alex didn't notice anything of it.

"It's a nice place outside" he spoke dreamily. "Maybe in a forest or a park… The weather is warm, but not too hot, probably like it is now… The moon shines down on us… He wraps his arms around my waist then slowly pulls me closer until…" the words were drowned out by a dreamy sigh shoving its way out of Alex.

"He?" Sam asked with a smile.

"At first it was a faceless someone, but now…" Alex blushed harder then shrugged and dropped the subject. Sam knew that events can finally take place according to plan. 'Phase 1' was complete.

* * *

><p>Sam was tearing at his hair in frustration. No matter how hard he tried, he never could bring 'Phase 2' into action. As the autumn was slowly taking over the mansion, Mark's work in the garden was growing in amount. He was mostly outside trimming the hedge, raking the dry leaves on the ground, and tending to the garden in the back. And to top it all off, Sam's workload doubled, as well, because of the Mistress's arrival. In the past days he waxed the parquet on both the front and back porch, he washed the windows, all of them, twice, he vacuumed the bedrooms, washed every linen in the mansion, dusted every room, scrubbed every bathroom until they were sparkling, polished the porcelain vases and trinkets, cleaned all the plates, especially the golden-rimmed ones and washed the tiles in the entrance hall four times. He was exhausted.<p>

At last, and Sam blessed every deity that possibly existed for that, on the weekend and a couple days before the arrival of the guest, he got a chance to talk to Mark. Neither the Master, nor Ramon, not even Alex could make something up for him to do, so he escaped into the gardens just before dinner, breathing in the fresh air so deeply that he smelled the lemon-scented window-cleaner he'd used just the day before. As he looked around, he noticed Mark trimming the hedge around the backyard. It seemed he was finishing, because only one or two feet of bush was waiting for its turn. Sam smiled, feeling the conspiratorial excitement bubble in his stomach. He hurried down the stairs before Fate had a chance to interrupt and joined Mark.

"Looking good" he spoke far enough away from the young man not to scare him. Alex had told him that Mark could get stressed easily, thanks to the piled-up work, which wasn't doing much good for his condition. Even from a safe distance, Mark jumped, surprised by Sam's voice, but a second later he smiled widely.

"Thanks" he said, the snaps starting up again. "I'm doing my best."

"Your best is pretty good" Sam noted, sitting onto the ground and folding his legs under him. He watched the young man work for a while then spoke up again:

"So, you're kinda excited about the Mistress."

"Uh-huh" Mark nodded still smiling.

"Why is that?"

"She's very kind to me, even more ever since…" Mark trailed off uncertainly, his voice trembling. "She's not as caring as Alex, though, she never could be…" he fell silent again, now a slight blush gracing his features. Sam just smiled in victory. He didn't forget the fear in the young man's voice, however, only storing it in his mind for later observation. "She helped me so much and treats me like her son… But now that I think about it" Mark tilted his head to the side, the shears lowered as he sank into his thoughts, "she does the same to Alex. And he deserves it, poor guy…"

"What do you mean?" Sam asked confused. Why would Alex behave so hostile, if the Mistress has been good to him so far? Maybe it's just jealousy.

"Alex was in the slavery since he was nineteen years old" Mark explained, snapping at the last branches expertly. "I just don't understand how his family can be so neglectful. I mean" Mark cut the very last branch off with a little more force than necessary then turned to Sam with anger in his eyes. "In the last six years he never even heard a word from them. Of course, I know finding someone amongst these institutions is possibly the hardest job ever, but it's like they never even tried to look for him! Like they disowned him or something! How can a family do this to one of its members?"

Sam lowered his gaze sadly onto his lap. He never could've guessed or imagined what Alex must have gone through during these years. Alex was so peaceful and collected, but he must feel so alone. Even Sam's father promised to look for him, that they will meet again. That promise was the only thing keeping him sane all this time. But to actually leave someone completely alone, desert him? That's a new level of low in his eyes.

Sam was startled out of his thoughts as Mark plopped down next to him, putting the shears onto the grass between them.

"That must be horrible" Sam whispered, his heart going out for his friend.

"You have no idea" Mark answered grimly, his tone giving away the possibility of a similar situation. "How Alex can stay so strong and loving is beyond me."

"Maybe because he has someone else to care for" Sam guessed and looked at the young man, their gazes meeting. Mark seemed to think this through.

They sat there silently for a couple of minutes then Sam gathered his courage to ask:

"What do you think about Alex?"

Mark looked at Sam surprised and a bit confused.

"Why do you ask?"

"Well" Sam started a bit timidly, "I like to think of him as a friend but I barely even know him. So I thought I'd ask you. You two seem to be close."

"Thanks" Mark smiled, the traces of his anger vanishing from his eyes. "Good to know." He paused to gather his thoughts. "He was here before me, so probably Ramon can answer you better, but I'll try… Alex is the kind of person you can always count on. He's caring and gentle, a complete mother hen at times."

"Yeah, I noticed" Sam remarked, chuckling along with Mark.

"But we love him for that" Mark continued with a shrug. "He's just amazing… Can I ask you something, too?" he turned to Sam, who nodded.

"I know" Mark's voice was trembling from embarrassment this time, "you've noticed that Alex is not… indifferent to me." A blush started creeping onto the young man's cheeks as he said that word. "I just wanted to know that, since you're quite good friends with him, maybe… you could… help…?"

"Help?" Sam was taken aback by this turn of events. Could it be that his plan can come to execution more easily than he thought?

"Yeah, you know…" Mark scratched at the back of his neck uncomfortably. "It's just… every time I try to talk to him, I… I get tongue-tied… apart from the usual rubbish I spill out…" Sam pushed at Mark's shoulder playfully with his own.

"It's not rubbish" he said with a smile. "Just childish."

"Shut up" Mark shoved him back, both of them laughing. "So" the young man spoke again after they calmed down, "will you help?"

"Yeah, why not?" Sam replied. He got up onto his knees, bouncing a little from enthusiasm, feeling like he was six years old again. "But first you need to know something."

However, just as Mark leaned closer, a voice called out from the back door of the mansion:

"Sam, could you come inside?"

Sam collapsed onto the ground with a groan, as Alex's voice reached the spot they were sitting. He buried his head under his arms and groaned again for good measure.

"Don't wanna…" he mumbled.

"Look who's childish now" Mark chuckled. Sam slowly staggered up, paying attention to land a whack on Mark's head with a pout. The young man just laughed then picked up his shears and stood up, as well, starting towards the shed in the back corner of the yard. With a sigh Sam made his way to the house.

"I need you to clean the dishes" Alex said, when Sam reached him.

"Again?" Sam whined. "If I clean them some more, they're gonna break. I wouldn't be surprised if the golden streak on them is faded already."

"Not those dishes" Alex smiled with the patience of a mother, as he led the way back to the kitchen. "I meant the ones I'd used for cooking."

"And then?" Sam asked warily, opening the faucet to fill the sink with hot water.

"And then what?" Alex looked at him confused.

"And then what would I have to do?"

"Nothing" Alex shook his head at the suspicious look sent his way. "Promise. We don't have any tasks for you… today" Sam groaned again and banged his head into the counter dejectedly. Alex clapped his shoulder in encouragement and they returned to the dishes, Alex drying them as usual.

As soon as they were done and they ate their food, Sam took a shower and fell into his bed, sinking into sleep the moment his head landed on his pillow. Before he was consumed by the darkness, he was vaguely aware of small hands tucking him in and a kiss landing on the top of his head. His last thought was full of recognition:

_'Mother hen'_

* * *

><p>True to Alex's words, Sam's duties were seemingly endless. He had to vacuum the rooms – again, dust everywhere – again, and wash the windows – <em>again.<em> He didn't have a chance to continue his conversation with Mark, but now the weight of his own thoughts reappeared, resuming their torture on him. The Mistress is going to arrive the next day. The one person that stood in the way of his hopes and dreams was coming… He did everything to dismiss his bad thoughts, trying to distract himself with his tasks, but the more hours passed, the closer he got to the unwelcome event the more it hurt, the more it tore at his broken heart.

Finally the night before the Mistress's arrival, he couldn't ignore his pain anymore.

The silvery light of the moon had fallen into the bedroom through the open window, bringing the cool breeze of autumn with itself through the summer heat. Sam was staring out into the yard, watching the leaves of trees rustling in the wind.

Tomorrow… Tomorrow is the day… The day when his hopes will be destroyed… The day when his dreams will be shattered into dust… The day when the Mistress arrives… Sam fisted the cover of his pillow, so tightly that he wouldn't have been surprised if blood oozed down the white material. He hiccupped a few times as he swallowed and breathed against the sobs trying to break out, sniffing softly to calm himself down. He shut his eyes tightly to chase the tormenting pictures away, forced his mind to empty itself from the tormenting thoughts, to get himself to the blissful darkness of sleep.

Suddenly the mattress dipped at his side. When he looked up, letting a couple of tears loose, he found Alex sitting next to him on the edge of the bed, gazing at him with the same worry as on that morning a week ago. Sam buried his face into his pillow to hide the signs of his misery. He hadn't even heard the rustle of sheets, when the young man had stood up. A hand lay on his shoulder comfortingly, but Sam knew it was no use. He hiccupped again, but shut his mouth tightly, his body jerking from the suppressed sobs.

"Would you like to talk about it?" came the hushed voice of Alex.

"N-no… 'M fi-ine…" Sam shook his head. He shut his eyes even tighter, trying to calm himself down and desperately wishing to fall asleep.

He was startled by the unexpected pull on his arm. When he glanced up again, he met with Alex's fingers wrapped around his wrist and pulling him forwards and towards the young man. However, he felt boneless and too tired to fight. The next moment his head was pillowed by Alex's thigh, an arm wrapped around his shoulders, while the other hand began petting his hair, the touch tender and caring.

"It's going to be alright" Alex whispered almost inaudibly. "Everything will be fine, you'll see…"

Every emotion in Sam's heart just exploded from the comforting tone that floated into his ears, like a mother's lullaby, the words running into one another through the fog of despair, hurt and unrequited love. Feeling overflowed by the flood inside him, he broke down into harsh sobs. He curled up against his friend, burying his face into Alex's thigh and stomach and fisting the soft material of the young man's sweatpants. He felt the embrace on his shoulders tighten drastically and the fingers combed through his hair so gently as if they were petting a newborn kitten. He didn't hear anything else, only his despair and Alex's soft crooning that did everything to calm and comfort him.

However, despite all the effort, one thought wedged itself into Sam's mind, digging its claws deeper and deeper until it was finally, although quite reluctantly, accepted:

_'Tomorrow is the day when you will lose Dean… forever…'_

* * *

><p>Sam woke up, his eyelids heavy and his head pounding slightly. He was covered with the blanket, a semi-wet towel on his temple. He tried to open his eyes and was surprised by the effort it took to do it. His eyes were bleary and stinging, so he scrubbed at them with his knuckles. As he sat up carefully, the towel slipped down his face and landed in his lap, but he ignored it.<p>

He remembered everything from the night before: crying, feeling so heartbroken, a voice comforting him, telling him it would be alright… He remembered receiving the same treatment that he gave to Alex a few days ago. As he looked around he saw the others sleeping like nothing happened during the night. But as he looked closer, he noticed that Alex was nowhere to be found. Where could he have gone? Especially this early in the morning? The sun hadn't even risen yet.

As the time sunk in, Sam's head began thrumming even more painfully, protesting against the lack of sleep. Sam rubbed at his forehead and temples trying to ease the pressure in his brain, but he was interrupted by the opening of the door. Alex stepped in sitting onto Sam's bed. The young man's face was pale, the cheeks flushed, the azure eyes slightly reddened. Could it be that… Alex couldn't sleep either? Maybe that he was even… _crying?_

"How do you feel?" Alex whispered, stroking Sam's arm.

"Like crap" Sam croaked out. Alex gave him a glass of water.

"Get yourself under a little control, wash your face then meet me in the kitchen" Alex ordered as he stood up then walked out of the room.

Sam sipped at the cool liquid, washing his parched throat down. If Alex looked like this after a night watch over him, then Sam must be a horrible sight. His eyes were still stinging and they were most likely puffy and red. He sipped at the water again and made an attempt to empty his mind – fruitlessly. All that was going through his head was of the Mistress's arrival, his heart filling with both nervousness and hatred towards the destroyer of his dreams.

With a sigh he got up and walked out of the room, the sun rising at last to bring the new day. He made a detour to wash his face as Alex instructed, glancing momentarily at his worn features. He was right: his eyes were reddened and puffy, but the cold water helped with the swelling. Wiping his face he went into the kitchen where Alex was waiting for him at the table.

"Sit down" the young man spoke in a hushed voice, motioning towards a chair. Sam did as he was told and Alex picked up the box that was lying on the table beside him. The box revealed a tube of some kind of cream. "Turn this way" Alex said and Sam turned the chair towards him. "Look at me and don't close your eyes" Sam was confused now. What did Alex want to do to him now? And what was that cream that Alex just squirted into his palm?

The young man put the tube down and dipped his index finger into the white cream. As Alex reached out towards Sam, the boy tried to move away instinctively.

"Don't move" Alex said, now smiling. "I won't hurt you." Sam stayed where he was and Alex carefully smeared the cream just under his eyes. Sam realized that he was rubbing it on the puffy skin.

"Marigold" Alex spoke, working efficiently. "It works wonders on inflamed and swollen skin. I usually use it after…" the young man trailed off uncomfortably and Sam didn't push the subject. After a couple of silent minutes Alex wiped the rest of the salve on his finger into his sweatpants.

"Thanks" Sam whispered, massaging the salve into his skin some more. He noticed Alex using up the rest of the cream in his hand for his own eyes.

Just as they finished, a phone rang in the mansion. Sam looked up towards the ceiling because it seemed to come from the Master's bedroom. When the ringing died down, Ramon stepped into the kitchen, dressed and ready for his duties.

"Sam" he said. "Could you come up with me to the Master?"

Sam sighed dejectedly. He was hoping to avoid his Master for today, especially after the guest gets here. Without a word though, he stood up and followed Ramon upstairs and into the bedroom, where Dean was just wrapping up the phone call. While the others were distracted, Sam massaged the cream some more into his skin, not wanting them to notice it or the signs of his crying.

"Alright" Dean spoke into the phone. "See you soon. Bye." He put the receiver down then stepped to the servants. "Ramon. Glad you came up." Dean smiled at the man. When his gaze landed on Sam, a frown appeared on his brow. Sam just barely caught it before lowering his head hastily. "The Mistress will arrive soon. We're going to bring her here."

"Yes, sir."

"Meanwhile" Dean stepped to Sam, who shrunk away a little at the sudden attention. When Dean continued, his voice was a touch gentler. "I want you to prepare the bedroom in the right wing, Sam."

"Yes, sir" Sam answered timidly.

"That means airing, dusting and bed-making, alright?"

"Yes, sir" Sam nodded. "Of course, sir."

Silence followed his reply. Sam felt like he was under a dozen spotlights, the gaze shining down on him almost burning his skin. He knew it was the Master.

"Ramon, drive the car to the entrance, please!" Dean ordered, the weight of his gaze not relenting, and Ramon hurried away with a 'yes, sir'. When the door closed after the man, Dean stepped closer to the remaining servant. Sam must have looked ready to bolt, because the Master grabbed his wrist gently. "Is everything okay?" he asked, barely beyond a whisper.

"Yes, sir" Sam replied, trying to lower his head even further. He was so close… he would see the irritated skin… the glitter of gathering tears … the misery of dashed hopes in his eyes… And then Dean grasped Sam's chin and lifted his head up. Sam shut his eyes tightly against the tears that doubled.

"Are you sure?" Dean asked, worry so clear in his voice like a fresh spring water in the mountains. It ran over Sam's body in waves, biting into his flushed skin soothingly. But Sam couldn't pay attention to it. There was that touch again, just like on that afternoon… by the piano… just before that perfect moment that kept his hopes up… His hopes that were destroyed…

By the _Mistress…_

Sam wrenched his head and wrist out of De- _the Master's_ hold and stumbled back.

"I need to prepare the room for the Mistress, sir" he rushed out and made his hasty escape to the back hallway, ignoring the call behind him. He needed to get over it. There was no chance for his dreams to come true! _'Get yourself together, you moron!'_ he screamed inwardly, as he made his way through the kitchen, swallowing his sobs down. Only when he arrived at the proper door did he notice that he had the feather duster in his hand. He didn't even remember getting it out of the closet. With another sigh, he stepped into the room to do his job.

When he opened the window, the room was filled with the purr of the Master's car as he and Ramon drove away to welcome the Mistress. Sam watched the black beauty glide through the gates, leaving two tendrils of dust behind. He sighed, as the day of his auction came back to him. The Master's voice had been hiding some worry, when he'd asked about Sam sleeping in the backseat. Sam remembered that, even though he'd been terrified from the outcome of his new 'home', the rumble of the engine had quickly soothed him into sleep.

Sam turned away from the window and began dusting the furniture in the bedroom, not letting his traitorous thoughts invade his mind again. Although he didn't have too much work to do, he was exhausted by the time he finished. His legs felt like lead as he dragged himself back to the servants' quarter.

Not a moment later that he collapsed into a chair, Alex's voice drifted towards him through the fog of tiredness:

"Why don't you take a nap, until they come back?"

Sam nodded and retreated to his bed, landing on it with a soft 'oof'. Soon he was carried away by the flowing river of darkness and sleep.

It felt like minutes later, when he was awoken by Ramon shaking his shoulders. Sam groaned but pushed himself up, scrubbing at his eyes sleepily.

"Whazzit?" he mumbled, pouting at the chuckle Ramon gave as a reaction.

"The Master wants to see you" he replied. "He wants to introduce you to the Mistress."

Sam's heart deflated at that. Why should he meet that damned woman? Why should he face the cause of his misery?

"Why?" he asked only, keeping his turmoil to himself. The answer came with another amused chuckle:

"Well, she has to meet the new servant, if she's going to visit here in the future, doesn't she?"

Sam realized that he can't get out of this without exposing his secret, so he reluctantly got up and followed Ramon towards the… Great Ballroom? Before he could ask though, he was ushered inside. What welcomed him made him freeze and momentarily lose the ability to breath.

Inside on the couch sat a middle-aged woman. She had beautiful golden-blonde hair framing her heart-shaped face, the color similar to the Master's. She was petite but strong, although his features were gentle. As she looked up, she smiled brightly, too familiar jade-green orbs shining down on him like rays of sunlight.

"Sam!" At his Master's cheerful voice Sam jerked back to life and immediately lowered his head. The Master appeared at Sam's side and led him inside the Ballroom and closer to the woman, who stood up. "I'd like you to introduce you to Sam, our new servant" Dean spoke to the Mistress. "He does the cleaning everywhere in the mansion."

"That's quite the job for a young man like you" the Mistress had a calming, kind voice. Sam was confused. This was the Mistress? Dean's… fiancée…? She was so much older…

"And Sam" Dean's voice cut through Sam's musings. "I want you to meet Mary Winchester nee Campbell… my Mother."

And even though no one was aware of his misery from the past week, Sam felt extremely ashamed and foolish for his thoughts that had been plaguing his mind.

_TBC_

* * *

><p><strong>So, how was it? Not that bad, right? Edible?<strong>

**So, don't get worried if I'm quite late with the next chapter! I'm not gonna leave this story behind, okay?  
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**See you at the next chapter!  
><strong>


	12. Match Made In Heaven, Part 1

**ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!  
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**ULTIMATE WARNING IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**AU, OOC. And yes: SLASH. Mild but it's there.  
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**Hey, guys! This is a shorter, but light-hearted chappy. The SLASH is not Sam and Dean yet, but you don't have to wait for much too long. :D  
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**There's a poll in my profile for the story Jade. Check it out, if you're interested!  
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**I hope you'll like it. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 12: Match Made In Heaven, Part 1<br>_

Sam had never felt this uncomfortable in his entire life. He was sitting in the Great Ballroom on the couch, right next to Dean, with the Mistress opposite him in an armchair. Two sets of jade-green eyes were gazing at him and they were so alike that it made Sam's skin crawl with anxiety. He was playing with his fingers ever since he was led into the room and seated. The skin was already red from the constant twisting and rubbing, as he tried to ease his nervousness and at the same time begging the other two inwardly to stop with the open staring.

Dean observed his servant worriedly. Something wasn't right with Sam today. Or rather this week. They had been getting closer to each other and Sam had begun to relax finally. However, the day he'd asked Ramon to announce his mother's arrival, Sam had started to pull away again. He'd avoided him completely, spending more time with the other servants. He knew he should be happy that Sam was finally fitting in, he couldn't help but feel a bit hurt, though. And then this morning, Sam behaved so strangely when they stayed alone in one room. Dean was shocked as he saw the reddened skin around the boy's tightly shut eyes and the glitter of drops on the long, dark lashes. Had he been _crying?_ But why? And why did it hurt so much to see just the traces of Sam's suffering?

What had broken his heart, however, was the way Sam had wrenched himself away, promptly escaping from the room. He'd even ignored Dean's worried call. What could Dean have done that Sam had reacted like that to him? To his presence? To his touch…

Now, though, embarrassment and nervousness poured out of the boy's body. Sam's head was bowed so low, Dean thought it would break off of his neck at any moment. He even scooted a little closer to Dean, being uneasy around their guest. What could've changed the boy's behavior so drastically?

Mary observed the pair on the couch, worried about the new boy and curious about her son. She instantly noticed the concerned hovering Dean showed around the boy. Could it be…? But she shouldn't think like that. The poor boy, Sam, was so frightened she feared he would pass out any minute.

"So" she spoke, trying to sound cheerful. Sam flinched from surprise; the silence was pretty tense around them. "How are you getting along here, Sam? You sure made a great job keeping this place in a top shape."

"Th-Thank you, M-Mistress" Sam stuttered out. Mary suppressed the 'Awww' attempting to break out of her, hearing the soft voice. Instead she waved with a chuckle.

"Just call me 'miss'. Mistress makes me sound like a secret lover from a romance novel."

"Mom!" Dean exclaimed with a pout.

"What? You don't think so? Honestly, I'm sure it was a man who thought this out."

"Mom!" Dean repeated, but this time it was more like a whine. This line of the conversation, though, drew out a quiet giggle from Sam. Just as Mary was about to join in, the boy stopped abruptly and covered his mouth with a horrified expression.

Dean glanced at his mother worriedly. When he saw the raised eyebrow, he nodded then turned back to Sam, who began visibly shaking, completely petrified from the outcome of doing something inappropriate.

"Sam, sweetheart" Mary spoke tenderly, taking a seat at Sam's free side. She carefully pried the boy's hand away from his mouth. "It was just a joke. You were supposed to laugh."

"I'm sorry, miss" Sam muttered ashamed. He felt tears gather in his eyes. _God I'm such a mess,_ he thought bitterly, wiping the wetness away.

"It's alright" Mary replied. "No harm done. So, how are you getting along here?" Sam was clearly relieved by the subject change.

"Very good, miss" he answered, his eyes still downcast. Mary found his well-mannered voice absolutely adorable. A glance at Dean revealed the same thing. Judging by his look, her son was already head-over-heels towards this boy. "Everyone is so kind to me."

"Did you befriend anyone?" Mary turned back to him.

"I…" Sam paused uncertainly, "I like to think of Alex as a friend."

"Well, I'm sure Alex thinks the same, as well."

"Thank you, miss." Mary thought she was going to burst from the sweetness of this servant.

"Mom, did you know Sam can play the piano?" Dean interjected suddenly. Sam froze hearing the question, while Mary looked curious.

"Really?" she looked at Sam for answer. As if the boy felt it – he was still looking down -, he began to shy away from the spotlight:

"I-I'm n-not that g-good…"

"Why don't you play something and let me be the judge of that?" Mary offered with a smile. It was such a long time ago that she heard piano music in this house.

It seemed Sam wanted to look at the two of them pleadingly not to make him do this, but he held himself back because of the rules. At last, he slowly stood up and stepped to the piano. Sitting onto the bench, he stayed motionless for a couple moments, thinking of a song he could play. With a deep breath, he smoothed his fingers onto the keys and began playing.

Dean smiled as the familiar notes filled the air of the room. It was the same song Sam played the last time, on that beautiful afternoon… Glancing at his mother, he saw the awe-struck expression on her face. Feeling satisfied, he closed his eyes and let himself be washed away by the gentle melody, filling him with warmth and memories… The softness of skin… The glitter of hazel-green eyes… The sunlight caressing chestnut-brown tresses, giving them a silky, golden shine… He noticed some regret in the back of his mind, for letting this boy slip out of his grasp that day.

Unbeknownst to Dean, Sam had similar thoughts in his mind, as he was whisked away by the melody. After the usual peace this song brought to him since he was a child, his mind filled with the memories of the afternoon again, mending his heart bit by bit. He felt those unexpected emotions, as the picture of jade-green eyes and the feeling of calloused fingertips on his chin played in front of his eyes, burning onto the inside of his eyelids.

Mary watched the talented fingers glide over the keys of the piano, creating this magical melody with ease. She noticed that Sam closed his eyes, sinking into his memories of the song. As it went on, Mary felt a nagging in her mind. This music was so familiar… She'd heard it somewhere…

Soon the music was over. Sam stayed in his place for a little while, letting the silence wrap around the three of them, taking the place of the last notes. When the final echoes faded away, as well, he stood up and turned towards the others.

"That was beautiful" Mary breathed in awe. Sam bowed his head to her.

"Thank you, miss."

"Excuse me" came a timid voice. When they looked up, their eyes landed on Alex, who was standing in the doorway. "I just came to let you know that breakfast is ready to be served."

"Alright" Mary jumped up and Dean followed. "It was very nice to meet you, Sam. I hope we're going to run into each other a couple times."

"So do I, miss" Sam answered with a shy smile.

"Well, come on, honey" Mary linked his arm with Dean's. "I'm hungry and I'm certain you're starving, as well. You were always such a bottomless pit."

"Mom!" Dean whined for the third time. Sam glanced up, just to catch the blush coloring the man's cheeks, before the pair left. He couldn't help but blush himself at the sight.

"We can also eat soon" Alex turned to him with a knowing smile. With a nod, Sam returned to the servants' quarter and took a seat at the kitchen table. To his delight, a second later Mark plopped down into the chair next to him.

"Hey, Mark" Sam greeted him. "Busy day?"

"Not as busy as the previous ones" Mark replied with a sigh.

"Can I tell you something?" Sam asked, the feeling of being a kid returning with some extra excitement. Mark looked at him curiously. "I know a secret… about Alex." Mark's eyes widened and he almost fell off of his chair in his haste to lean close to Sam. They were still huddled together, Sam whispering his idea into Mark's ear, when the other servants stepped in.

"What's so interesting?" Alex asked. Ramon just watched the two suspiciously. Mark did fall out of his chair this time as they jumped away from each other. Sam tried to keep an innocent expression, trying not to laugh as Mark's deeply flushed face popped out from behind the tabletop.

"Nothing" the two replied quickly at the same time. Alex looked surprised.

"Yeah, that's not suspicious at all" Ramon commented with an eye roll as he joined the pair at the table. As Alex turned away to serve the lunch, Sam whispered to Mark:

"Could you be any more inconspicuous?"

"Sorry" Mark huffed but Sam just laughed at him silently.

"Since when have you two been acting like teenage girls?" Ramon teased, but he looked happy at the relaxed behavior. Sam just stuck his tongue out childishly, a smirk firmly in place. The breakfast went on without any disturbance.

* * *

><p>"What did you think about the Mistress?" Alex asked when he and Sam were washing the dishes.<p>

"She's really kind" Sam answered honestly. "I was so nervous to meet her, but she helped me relax so easily."

"Yes, she had to do it a couple of times" Alex remarked quietly. They remained silent for awhile then Sam spoke up:

"Can I talk to you? In private?"

"Of course" Alex replied instantly. "You know you can."

"But not now" Sam added timidly. "When everyone's asleep." Alex frowned at the odd request, but nodded. "Okay, meet me on the front porch at midnight." Another nod sealed the deal. Sam turned back to the dishes, smiling triumphantly out of Alex's sight. He was so excited he had to suppress the urge to do a happy dance.

And the best of all: tonight's going to have a clear sky and a full moon.

* * *

><p>Sam was so excited about the evening that he couldn't sleep. Having enough with the tossing and turning in his bed, he decided to get a drink. However, as he sat up and saw two empty beds, his plan flew out the window and Sam quickly snuck out of the bedroom.<p>

When he stepped out into the entrance hall, he already caught a glimpse of Alex in one of the windows as he was waiting for him, gazing upwards. Sam rushed to the window, careful not to be visible, and settled in for the show. He soundlessly turned the latch so he could open the window. Now, he heard the chirps of crickets clear as day. It must have been close to midnight; the moon was high up on the dark sky, its silver glow diminishing the glints of the stars.

"Hey" came Mark's voice from the steps. Alex jumped at the unexpected sound and snapped his head towards the young man. Mark was indeed standing at the front stairs, gazing at Alex with a gentle smile. To Sam's astonishment, Alex immediately blushed.

"Hey" he whispered shyly. "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep" Mark replied, walking next to Alex and turning his gaze towards the sky. "It's such a beautiful night." Sam smiled when Alex nodded, not even noticing the night, his eyes only for the young man next to him. When Mark glanced at him, Alex whipped his head around as if he was admiring the sky instead of the sight next to him. "And you? How come you're out here?"

"I was waiting for Sam" Sam felt a little guilty for setting Alex up, as he heard the worried tone of his friend. _All in a good cause,_ he thought, trying to convince himself. "Looks like he overslept."

"At least he's fine enough that he can sleep" Mark replied with a hesitant shrug.

"Yes, thank God" Alex nodded, his shoulders relaxing visibly in relief.

"What are you doing?" Sam almost jumped out of his skin and through the window in fright, when he heard the whisper. He could just barely keep his cry in. Gasping for air, he looked behind him: the Mistress was standing right behind him.

"I-I'm sorry, miss" he whispered back. "I-I just wanted to make sure…"

"Is that Alex and Mark outside?" Mary whispered, cutting Sam's stuttering off. Sam turned back to the scene outside, as well.

"Yes, miss."

"Care to let me in on what's going on?" Mary questioned, watching the two servants curiously.

"I just wanted to help them, miss" Sam explained, not sure what reaction he would get.

"That's wonderful" Mary exclaimed, still whispering. "It was time. Mind if I join you?"

"Of course not, miss."

As the two settled in to watch the progressing events, Mark and Alex gazed at the sky above them.

"You know" Mark spoke up. Sam was holding his breath. "I don't want to sound mushy, but… I know something much more beautiful than this night."

"Really?" Alex was genuinely interested now. "What's that?"

Mark turned fully towards the smaller man and smiled at the glittering azures looking up at him. There wasn't too much of a height difference between them, but it was exceptionally great as they gazed at each other.

"It's you."

The silent confession was followed by the stillness of surprise then Alex blushed even deeper and looked away with a shy smile. He startled as arms wrapped around his waist, and he snapped his head up when he was pulled closer.

"Wh-Wh-What are you d-doing?" he spluttered, laying his hands onto Mark's chest.

"What I wanted for a long time now" Mark whispered softly. He carefully leaned closer and when he met no resistance, he pressed his lips onto Alex's thin ones. The touch of those rosy lips was like heaven for him; he closed his eyes to savor every millimeter of it. When one of Alex's hands slipped up to cup his cheek, he knew he was treading on the right path. He pulled back enough to lean his head to the other side then returned to the newfound ambrosia with such gentleness, he had to tighten his hold on Alex's waist.

Alex pressed back shyly, answering that long-awaited kiss as much as he could with his brain melted from the love radiating from this wonderful young man. He moved his lips, sucking slightly on Mark's lower lip. Mark instantly opened up in invitation and the next moment their tongues mapped out each other with loving caresses. He never would've thought that kissing could come so naturally for him, since it was his first ever. His thoughts evaporated, though, as Mark hugged him even tighter and their kiss deepened.

Sam pumped his fist behind the Mistress, smiling so hard he felt like his mouth would rip. He could never have been more satisfied: his plan worked without a hitch.

"Good job, Sam" Mary said. She was smiling, too.

"Thank you, miss."

"But now you should get back to bed. And so do I."

"Yes, miss. Goodnight, miss."

"Goodnight, Sam. Sleep well."

With that they parted ways, Mary walking up the stairs to her room, while Sam snuck back into the servants' bedroom. Ramon was still asleep. As he got into bed, he smiled at the thought of a happy couple in this house. He fell into his dream with happiness towards his friends and newly growing hope for the future he wished for.

* * *

><p>The next morning Sam was awoken by a hand shaking his shoulder. When he looked up he saw Ramon leaning above him.<p>

"I knew you were planning something" he whispered. As Sam raised an eyebrow, the man nodded towards a bed. Sam sat up and glanced that way – and his jaw dropped from shock.

Alex and Mark were sleeping in one bed in complete peace. They weren't tangled with each other, but more like sleeping next to one another. The only clue of the previous night was the two turned towards each other and the hand-holding, fingers entwined.

Sam felt proud of himself as he watched the pair. He was overjoyed that his friends have found each other and now they can be happy for the rest of their lives. As he observed them, though, his mind automatically replaced the two with himself and… Dean… He sighed a bit dreamily, but mostly in sadness. It was such a fulfilling sight as he pictured it that it was almost unbearable, knowing he couldn't have it.

But, he had to cheer up, at least for the sake of Alex and Mark. He didn't want to ruin their loving moments with his gloomy mood this day.

"Let's give them some time to rest" Ramon murmured, not wanting to disturb the pair's dreams. Sam nodded and followed Ramon out to take a quick shower. Just as he turned back for a last glance, he caught Alex moving in his sleep, unconsciously slipping closer to Mark. In response, Mark shifted closer, as well, and an arm draped around Alex's waist. The two young men were still in a deep sleep.

Sam smiled all the way through his shower and sitting down at the kitchen table.

"And what about breakfast?" he asked, still a little sleepy from going to bed so late.

"We always have a secret stash for 'emergency'" Ramon explained with a smile. "In case Alex gets sick or something." With that he pulled out a box of cereals from the cupboard with two bowls and spoons. Sam's eyes widened when he saw the box.

"Lucky Charms?" he spoke out loud in shock.

"Yeah, the Master likes the stuff" Ramon said, his voice a little muffled as he reached for the milk in the refrigerator. "It's getting a bit harder to find, though."

Sam felt his heart swell with the cavalcade of emotions hearing that. Lucky Charms was Dean's favorite? "It's my favorite, too" he whispered. All of a sudden, a memory slipped forward in his mind when he was a small child, still living at their mansion. He'd been slurping at the cereal and milk, a big spoon in his hand. It was a little difficult to remember, because his mom had been alive that time and she died when Sam was four, almost five.

_'When I's gonna fin' my bestestest fwend, wike you an' Daddy, we's gonna eat Wucky Shaams evvy day.'_

He always remembered the heartfelt laugh of his mother at his statement and he cherished that moment, that memory all throughout his life, especially after… He swallowed, but his throat tightened when he remembered his mother's response.

_'And what if they don't like Lucky Charms?'_

_ 'My bestestest fwend gonna on'y wike Wucky Shaams! I's not fwend dem if dey not.'_

"Sam, you alright?" Ramon's gentle voice broke through his memories. When Sam looked up he saw the man sitting next to him, a worried expression on his face. Sam must've zoned out for quite a while.

"I'm fine" he smiled sadly. "Just… nostalgic."

"Well, you should eat" Ramon clapped his shoulder then grabbed a bowl. Sam did the same and soon they were crunching merrily on the cereal.

"Mornin'" came a sleepy voice from the kitchen door. As the two servants looked up, they met with a sleepy, rumpled-clothed Dean. "Alex?"

"He had a busy night" Ramon replied with a smile, since Sam was busy hiding his adoring smile behind his spoon. "I let him and Mark sleep in." During his answer, Dean hunted down the coffee maker and poured himself a fresh cup. The moment he swallowed the first sip, he was alert enough to exclaim:

"Ooh, Lucky Charms!"

Getting a bowl and spoon, Dean plopped down into the chair right next to Sam and poured an extreme amount of cereal and flooded it with milk until it almost overflowed. Sam blushed at the childishly cute scene but he returned to his own breakfast. He choked on his spoonful when Dean moaned out loud in pleasure.

"I'm telling ya'" Dean said to Ramon, "I'm only gonna marry someone who loves Lucky Charms."

Sam snotted milk out of his nose, but it had nothing to do with Ramon's meaningful smirk towards the boy at the exclamation. No way! Honestly!

_TBC_

* * *

><p><strong>So, how was it? If it's not that good, I'll try to do the next one better.<strong>

**This is my first time to write a little kid's words. I hope it's alright.  
><strong>

**Please, Read and Review! See you at the next chappy!  
><strong>


	13. Reality

**ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!  
><strong>

**ULTIMATE WARNING IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**AU, OOC, slight SLASH.  
><strong>

**Hey guys! I have some bad news...  
><strong>

***sigh*  
><strong>

**There's still no actual Sam/Dean SLASH in here.  
><strong>

**Now, before you send out a squad to hunt me down, I promise, no, I SOLEMNLY SWEAR to you that the next chapter will have SLASH in it with Sam and Dean.  
><strong>

**And blame this chapter on Missy and Sadie. They plotted against me. *Sadie glares at Author, Missy pouts with huge kitty eyes "borrowed" from Shrek*  
><strong>

**Hope you'll enjoy the new chapter! Maybe it can give some more info about the world I created. :D**

**UPDATE: I noticed a mistake. The beginning paragraph of this chapter was missing. It's edited now.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 13: Reality<br>_

Mary slowly made her way towards the kitchen. Ramon had already informed her about Alex and Mark and she couldn't have been happier. Those two had always been dancing around each other ever since they met. When Mary had seen them together, she'd known instantly that it must have been love at first sight. And the fact that it only took a small nudge from a third person…

Mary shook her head with a smile as she descended the main stairs. If only another one of these miracles could happen soon… She'd seen the stares Dean sent towards the new servant and the longing glances the young man threw at his Master when her son decided to be blind. Maybe she could give that little nudge… with some help, of course.

She arrived at the kitchen then and a remarkable sight greeted her, when she stepped in: her son, the mighty Lord Winchester, who was tough and emotionless from the outside, was having a playful tug-of-war with Sam, the box of Lucky Charms as the 'rope'. She was a bit surprised to see the gentle, innocent Sam with a slightly mischievous smile on his lips and a pleading puppy-dog look in his wide hazel-eyes, creating the perfect picture of an innocent little boy. Dean, on the other hand, had a full-blown grin on his face, his jade-green eyes sparkling with such happiness that Mary hadn't seen for quite a while.

Now she knew what she had to do for her son's – and her servant's – happiness to remain. And she knew just where to get an ally.

"What is going on here?" she asked, raising her voice over the hearty laughs of Dean and Ramon, who was watching the fight with some incredulity. Hearing the motherly tone, Dean and Sam froze, before the younger man quickly let go of the box, blushing in embarrassment for his behavior. Dean, however, just let out a laugh of triumph and dumped almost the whole content of the box into his bowl.

"I'm sorry, miss" Sam muttered, eyes lowered and hands folded in his lap. Mary couldn't help but smile at the sweetness. She couldn't get enough of it.

"It's alright, sweetie" she replied as she stepped to the table then she plucked the box out of Dean's hand to save some cereal for herself. When Dean reached towards the box with an indignant 'Hey!', she slapped his hand. "You had enough, mister. Don't be so greedy!"

"Mom!" Dean whined, pout firmly in place. When Sam glanced up, he almost turned purple from the adorably young look.

"I'm not gonna let you run around naked again in this manor, young man!" Mary said firmly and she took the bowl in front of Dean away, as well. "Or need I remind you of your age of four? You had too much sugar just before bedtime and we had guests, too…"

"Mom, would you stop?" Dean pleaded, turning a shade of bright crimson. "Please? It was embarrassing enough, when you told your friends the first time."

"What?" Mary shrugged, dipping her spoon acquired from Ramon into the cereal. "It was a sweet story to share."

"I was sixteen" Dean deadpanned, glaring playfully at his mother. Mary waved him off, just as Alex and Mark stepped into the kitchen. The pair halted when their gazes landed on the crowded table. Sam had a bright smile on his face when he saw them still holding hands. Peeking around, he noticed the others having similar smiles.

"Good morning" Mark greeted them quietly, a bit awkward in front of so many eyes.

"We're really sorry for sleeping in so late, sir" Alex spoke in the same tone. "We promise not to do it again."

"It's okay" Dean replied soothingly, making the servants relax. "Ramon told me that you two had a… busy night- Ouch!" He jerked and glared at his mother.

"Don't be so insensitive and rude!" she scolded before turning back to the newcomers with a smile. Alex and Mark suppressed a smirk then Mark leant down and whispered into Alex's ear, who nodded. As Mark made his way to the coffee maker, Alex stepped to Sam worriedly.

"Is everything alright now?" he asked the boy, who was a little taken aback from the question.

"Yeah, of course" he replied. He didn't notice Dean's worried eyes snap towards him or Mary's knowing smile. "Why?"

"You didn't show up at night. I was worried."

Sam gulped in guilt for concerning his friend for no reason, but he had to keep up the act.

"Oh, dammit" he whispered, wiping at his face, like he just remembered something. "I totally slept through it all. I'm so sorry."

"It's alright" Alex patted Sam's shoulder reassuringly. "We can speak again today."

"Oh no, it's not necessary" Sam shook his head quickly, but from Alex's knowing smirk, he guessed it was too quick. However, the young man just leant down and wrapped his arms around Sam's neck in a comforting hug that Sam couldn't help but reciprocate.

"Thank you" the two words floated into his ear like air, only heard by him. Sam pulled back in surprise then understood that he was busted. Alex winked at him, before turning to Mark, who gave him a mug of coffee and a soft kiss.

"I can start breakfast if you would like" Alex offered when he turned to the others.

"We're already done" Ramon answered, standing up to pick up the empty bowls and put them into the sink.

"Yep, we broke out our Lucky Charms" Dean added with a grin.

"Could anyone restrain you from eating it all, sir?" Mark jabbed with a teasing smirk. The answering pout broke loud laughter out of everyone.

* * *

><p>"Sweetie" Mary spoke after retiring to her son's bedroom with Dean. "Have you done the preparations for tomorrow night?"<p>

"Yes, Mom" Dean answered with a reassuring smile. "I just need to confirm with the servants."

"Don't forget to speak with Sam about it!" Mary warned him. "He's still new and I'm sure he's gonna be nervous."

"I think I'll do it now" Dean decided, standing up from his seat. Pressing a kiss onto his mother's cheek he left the room.

As Dean stepped into the servants' quarter, he heard a laugh come from the bedroom. He recognized it immediately and had to close his eyes, a smile slipping onto his face involuntarily: it was Sam. Taking a deep breath, he squashed his storming feelings inside, not wanting to ruin his current friendship with the boy. After a moment, he knocked on the slightly ajar door, which swung open with a tiny creek.

Sam and Alex looked up from their chat. Both of them were sitting on Sam's bed, Alex telling his friend about last night. As the door moved and revealed Dean, Sam couldn't help but blush and look quickly away. His heart sped up, beating frantically, and butterflies fluttered around in his stomach. His breaths became shaky, quickening his heartbeat as he smelled the unique cologne that Dean used all the time.

"Sir?" Alex asked confused.

"I just came to speak about tomorrow" Dean stepped in, standing at the foot of the bed.

"Oh" Alex's eyes lit up in understanding. Sam looked between the two nervously.

"Excuse me" he spoke quietly and the others turned to him with a gentle smile. "What's going to happen tomorrow?"

Alex gasped softly, realizing that Sam didn't know about this. Dean, though, answered the boy's question:

"The yearly charity dinner. At the end of every August, we hold it in this house."

"You mean, sir" Sam began, feeling the air evaporate from his lungs "that there will be guests and-and food and… and…"

"It's alright" Alex interrupted hurriedly, laying a hand onto Sam's pale cheek. Dean was watching his servants in concern, feeling a desperate urge to comfort the boy himself. "You don't have to be around them for now…"

"That's right" Dean nodded, seeing the dissolving tension in Sam's shoulders at Alex's words. "We only need you at the preparation before the guests' arrival, and after the party's over to clean up, okay?"

"Y-Yes" Sam nodded, still shaky. "Thank you, sir."

"However" Dean continued, "I need to go to the town right now, so if you have anything that you need for tomorrow…" his words were addressed to Alex.

"Yes, sir, I have a list" Alex replied, jumping up and walking out of the room to the kitchen.

"Knowing Alex, I might need help" Dean mumbled then an idea struck him. "Would you come help me with the shopping?" he turned to Sam, who looked up in surprise before quickly lowering his gaze.

"If you wish, sir" he said and slowly got up from the bed.

"Okay" Dean nodded and stepping to Sam, he wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulders and began steering him towards the door, just enjoying the warmth of the innocent servant by his side. "You take a shower and get ready while I talk to Alex."

Sam nodded, trying to hide his blush as he was pressed against Dean's firm body. He began trembling with something that he couldn't comprehend. He just knew that if he listened to it, he might not be able to restrain himself… Parting from the pleasant warmth and unique scent, he gathered some fresh clothes from the closet and walked into the bathroom. All the while he was getting ready, he willed his mind to stop making up different scenarios, now that he had a chance to be alone with his Master. He willed himself not to think about those beautiful green eyes, the full lips, the freckles on the tanned cheeks… Before getting out of the shower, he swiftly turned the knob to ice-cold temperature for a couple minutes.

* * *

><p>"Alright, is that all?" Dean asked as Sam appeared in the kitchen.<p>

"Yes, sir" Alex nodded and Dean pocketed the paper he had been looking through. Turning to his other servant, he had to swallow from the sight of the boy, whose hair was damp and skin was flushed slightly from the shower.

"I'm ready, sir" Sam spoke softly, bowing his head respectfully. Dean cleared his throat and nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment. Sam even had to wear a T-shirt that almost stuck to his chest, accentuating the lean muscles the boy had, and the tightest jeans he owned that was bordering on the verge of sin itself. Dean's eyes roamed over the tall, lean body, not bulky like other men in usual, but a little feminine, showing his hermaphrodite self perfectly.

Dean cleared his throat again and locked those thoughts away in the back of his mind. Walking to the kitchen table where Sam was standing, he picked up the object he placed there when Sam went to take a shower.

"Here" he showed it to the boy, whose expression turned from confused to downright shattered. Dean knew it must be humiliating for Sam. "You need to wear this."

Sam fought the urge to break down and sob like a three-year-old. He sometimes forgot what world he was born into. Ever since he'd gotten here, he felt like he was leading a normal life, despite the 'sirs' and the duties. But as he looked the white leather over, he was thrown back into reality – with full force.

It was a collar, similar to the one he'd had to wear at the institution until he'd been purchased. The difference between this one and the one from the past was that this one was pure white. Even the nametag was different: while the previous one was engraved by a series of numbers, this had something else written on it:

_Property of Winchester Family,_

_of Lord Dean Michael Winchester_

Under those two lines were the address and the phone number of the mansion.

"I'm sorry" Dean whispered sadly. "But it's necessary, so they know you're out of the house with permission. It's the rules."

Sam nodded with a shaky breath. As Dean walked behind him and strapped the collar onto his neck, Sam felt the rush of memories in his mind:

_ The sudden move from his home…_

_ His father's frantic voice…_

_ Hands grabbing him from behind and tying his wrists together…_

_ Orderlies dragging him through a room…_

_ Snaps of scissors…_

_ Metal bars bruising his shoulder and leather strap biting into his skin…_

Sam grabbed at the collar with a whimper, ripping it off and throwing it on the floor. He felt sobs break out of him as he hugged himself, feeling a little dizzy and breathless from all those memories. He startled when hands guided him forward and into a hard chest, a chin digging into the top of his skull. Fingers ran through his locks soothingly, holding Sam's head in place.

Sam felt tremors run through his body as he calmed down, and he began sniffing to get himself together. However, as soon as he felt the leather creep onto his neck, he whimpered and clawed at it, trying to get it away. His wrist was suddenly held in a tight grip and he wanted to tear himself away from the person holding him, but the other was stronger. Sam writhed helplessly, but he couldn't stop them to strap the collar around his neck. The leather tightened a little, making Sam gasp in a breath, fearing from suffocation, before it let up enough to settle snugly on his skin. The fingers ran through his hair once more, before he was pushed away and upright.

"You alright?" Dean asked in a whisper, wiping the escaped tears from Sam's cheeks. The boy noticed the pain in the jade-green eyes as they roamed over his features. Sam knew now who was hugging and comforting him.

"Be good, Master" he whimpered, clawing futilely at the collar. "Please, don't hurt me…"

"Shhh" Dean shushed him. "You've been exceptionally good." Sam noticed the pain in the man's voice, too. He knew that Dean would never hurt him, but something was rubbed raw inside him during the last few minutes and he couldn't help but be wary of his Master. "It's okay" Dean caressed Sam's white cheek tenderly. At that touch everything clicked into place and Sam's eyes widened.

"I'm so sorry, sir" he apologized, mortified. "I just don't know…"

"I know" Dean cut him off with a sad smile. "Everything is still too fresh. But it's gonna be fine." With that Dean pulled away and started for the door. "I'll be at the car. Come out when you're ready."

"Yes sir" Sam nodded, still ashamed, but relaxed that his Master was still caring for him. When Dean disappeared, Sam turned to Alex, who had been watching the whole scene with horror. When hazel-green eyes landed on him, Alex rushed forward and pulled Sam down into a much-needed hug – for the both of them.

"You'll be fine" Alex whispered into Sam's ear. The boy nodded into his shoulder. "We'll help you… Won't leave you…"

"Thanks" Sam breathed then pulled away. With a grateful smile, he turned around and walked out of the kitchen, making his way towards the Impala. He sat into the passenger's seat and Dean turned around to drive to town. No words were exchanged between them, especially about the last few minutes before the car ride.

* * *

><p>Sam watched the people on the street walking by. He was sitting in the car, waiting for his Master to return. This was the third stop they had since they arrived into the downtown of Lawrence, Kansas. He only knew the town's name from the signs and billboards they passed on the way. He was shocked to learn how far he ended up from his home in Sioux Falls. How far he was from his father…<p>

Sam swallowed, steering his mind away from his gloomy thoughts. He saw Dean inside the little shop, paying for the purchases. Sam didn't understand why he was here. Dean said that he'll need help with the shopping, but so far he just ordered Sam to stay in his seat. Dean was fine without him. It didn't seem that Alex asked anything hard that would require Sam's not-so-helping hands.

Speaking of hands, Sam caught himself unconsciously fingering the white collar. It was bothering him so much, his fingers were twitching to unclasp the buckle and throw the thing out of the window. However, he restrained himself, not wanting to get his Master into trouble. But the leather was irritating his skin so much, he had to scratch at it all the time…

Just as he was doing that, the driver's side door opened and Dean plopped into the seat. Sam didn't have time to snatch his hand away from his neck before the Master looked at him. Dean's gaze saddened at his servant's obvious discomfort and Sam felt lower than dirt for causing that to his Master.

"Don't worry" Dean said gently as he put the bag into the backseat. "There's not many places to go now."

"Yes, sir" Sam murmured, but he couldn't help the pout that crept up onto his features. Dean huffed out a laugh and pinched his cheek teasingly. Sam snapped his head away, blushing furiously, but he smiled gratefully at the attempt to cheer him up. The next moment the engine came to life and they pulled out onto the road. Sam watched the houses fly by them, not paying attention to the turns and the way they were going. He was trying to push the redness in his cheek down, but the feel of those calloused fingers trapped his mind in place. He jumped when the car stopped and Dean laid a hand on his shoulder.

"We're here. Now I need your help." With that Dean climbed out of the car and Sam followed him hastily, slippers clapping on the concrete ground of the parking lot. As he looked up, he noticed the shopping mall nearby. Dean joined him and they ventured into the huge building. Sam was surprised to see so many cars outside and so many people filtering in and out through the sliding doors.

As they stepped into the mall, Dean picked up two baskets, giving one to Sam.

"Alright" he spoke, fishing the shopping list out of his jacket pocket. Ripping it in half, he gave one to Sam while he kept the other. "Find all these items listed here and then meet me at the cashiers, okay?"

"Yes, sir" Sam answered, bowing his head respectfully. Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed a couple people glancing at them fleetingly and Sam felt the nervousness creep up into his heart. It must have been visible on his face, because Dean smiled at him reassuringly.

"Don't worry" he reiterated, squeezing Sam's shoulder gently. "They know you're out on an errand. No one will bother you."

Sam nodded and let Dean lead him into the aisles. He was glad that Dean was staying with him for now. He didn't know how the others would react to his presence. After a few minutes of nothing happening, Sam looked carefully around. He didn't understand why no one pointed him out. Once his eyes took in everything, he felt like hitting himself for his stupidity.

The place was filled with men, women, kids – and servants. There was a woman at the vegetables with a young girl next to her holding a basket, eyes lowered. She was wearing a white blouse and faded jeans, slippers on her feet just like Sam's. Near the freezers he saw a couple with a middle-aged man as a servant, who was pushing a shopping cart after his Master and Mistress. He had also seen a few lonely servants in their mid-forties. They must've been trusted to be let out alone – like Ramon.

One thing was standing out in the picture: all the servants were wearing white collars with nametags on it, just like Sam.

"Okay" Dean spoke and Sam snatched his gaze away from the fifteen-year-old slave, who was holding a little girl's hand. He must be assigned to look out for the child. "I'll take a look around. Will you be alright alone?"

"Yes, sir" Sam replied, feeling somewhat confident. He hadn't felt like that for quite a while. It was great. Dean smiled at him then walked away towards the other end of the mall. Sam slipped the handle of the basket onto his forearm and looked at the shopping list in his hand. It seemed he got the simpler half of the required stuff. With a deep breath he went to search for the flour and sugar.

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><p>Sam never would've thought that he would enjoy something as simple as shopping. He had a chance to be outside the mansion and he quite liked the change of scenery, despite it being a crowded shopping mall. He had an opportunity to see other servants beside the others at the Winchester mansion. What stumped him the most was how well the owners treated their slaves. He heard a short conversation next to him, while he was looking through the vegetables, as a woman let her servant pick something the young man liked.<p>

He was a witness of only one incident: a middle-aged man slapped his young servant, because she took a bag of sweets without his permission. The act was quickly forgiven when the girl explained that she wanted to give that to her Master's son. The Master calmed down and even bought an extra bag for the girl. Sam couldn't help but smile at the generosity.

He was almost at the end of his shopping list, looking for one bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and one Sangiovese. He was looking through the labels, when a voice startled him out of his concentration:

"Sam? Is that you?"

Sam turned around and his eyes widened. Standing behind him was none other than…

"Sylvia?"

Sylvia smiled, happy that the boy recognized her.

"Now, come down from the skies and give me a hug!" she said after a moment of stunned silence. Sam laughed in embarrassment but leaned down to accept the embrace. Sylvia squeezed him with a laugh before pulling away.

"So you've been auctioned?" Sam asked, remembering their first conversation in the institution.

"Yes" Sylvia nodded towards a woman holding a toddler in her arms and a little boy clinging to his mother's blouse with one hand. "And everything went according to plan."

"Is it okay that you came here?" Sam asked worriedly. He had caused enough trouble to others, he didn't want to meddle with Sylvia's life, too.

"Of course" Sylvia reassured him. "I asked my Mistress and she said yes. She and the Master are so kind to me. And I love the children to death. But enough about me" she turned serious. "What about you? Ever since you were bought, I was so worried. Are you alright? Do they treat you well? Do you manage the work?"

Sam chuckled at the swarm of questions.

"Yes, I'm alright… finally" he didn't miss the glint of fear in her azure eyes. "My Master is such a great man. And his mother, the Mistress, whom I had the chance to meet yesterday, is also very kind to me. The other servants help me a lot, but I'm alright."

"It's nice to hear such a confident voice from you" Sylvia said, stroking Sam's arm.

"Sylvia?" Hearing her name, she turned around and bowed her head towards the woman appearing next to them.

"Yes, Mistress?"

"Why don't you introduce me to your friend?" the woman asked with a kind smile. The toddler in her arms was gazing at the tall man with wide eyes, pacifier moving slightly in and out, as he suckled at it. Sam couldn't help but adore the cute baby.

"Of course, Mistress" Sylvia nodded. "This is Sam. I met him at the institution. Sam" she turned to the boy, smiling at the adoring look on his face as he watched the toddler. At his name Sam snapped his head to her. "This is my Mistress, Monica Colter."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, miss" Sam bowed his head towards the woman respectfully, eyes lowered onto the floor as was expected of him.

"Such a well-mannered boy" Monica gushed. "It's a pleasure for me, too, Sam. May I ask where your Master is?"

"He's somewhere in here, miss" Sam replied shyly. He felt a little nervous from talking with strangers. "He brought me to help him do the shopping."

"Oh, I see" Monica nodded. "So you're one of the Winchesters' servants?"

"Yes, miss."

"Really?" Sylvia blurted out. "Wow."

"Alright" Monica spoke. "I'm sure you have other things to do. We won't take up your time."

"It was no trouble at all, miss."

"Yeah, Monica, it was no trouble" came Dean's voice suddenly from behind. Sam turned around, only to blush at the smile on his Master's face. "You're coming tomorrow for the dinner?"

"Of course, dear" Monica answered. "My husband and I wouldn't miss it."

"Thank you" Dean nodded gratefully. With an exchange of goodbyes, Monica left them alone.

"Good day, sir" Sylvia greeted Dean. Sam snapped out of his silence at that.

"Master" he spoke turning to Dean. "This is Sylvia, a friend of mine from the institution."

Dean greeted the woman then he addressed his next words to Sam:

"Did you find the wine?"

"No, sir, not yet" Sam shook his head.

"I saw one of them at the end of the aisle" Dean remarked, pointing over his shoulder. Sam nodded and hurried that way to retrieve the bottle. As soon as Sam was out of hearing range, Dean turned to Sylvia.

"Thank you for taking care of him, while he was in slave-trade" he spoke quietly. Sylvia seemed a bit shocked then looked towards Sam, who was examining the bottles on the shelves.

"Poor thing was terrified to death" she muttered almost to herself. "I couldn't let him suffer through such a trauma… Can I ask something, sir?" she waited anxiously for the nod that came in answer. "How did he take it? Being captured, being a slave, everything?"

"Not well" Dean sighed, his gaze on his servant, as well. "It was a bumpy ride… a really bumpy ride… but now he's getting better."

"Sylvie?" came a little voice from between them. Looking down, Dean saw a little boy, Monica's son, pulling at the servant's jeans.

"What is it, sweetie?" she asked, lifting the child up into her arms with a smile.

"Can I has candy?" the boy asked silently, burrowing himself into Sylvia's shoulder, noticing now the stranger next to them. Dean, who turned back to watch his servant, noticed Sam's sad smile, as the boy watched Sylvia with the child. Dean was curious what Sam was thinking now. He tried to read the emotions in the hazel-green eyes from such a distance, but the opportunity was ripped away from him too quickly, when Sam returned to the wine bottles.

"Did your Mommy allow it?" Sylvia asked in a firm, mothering tone.

"Can we ask her?" the little boy asked with big, wide eyes.

"Of course" Sylvia nodded with a smile. "It was nice to meet you, sir" she said to Dean, who nodded his goodbye. As Sylvia walked away, she waved towards Sam, who waved back as he made his way to his Master.

"Did you get everything?" Dean asked when Sam stopped next to him. The boy checked the shopping list then nodded with a triumphant grin.

"Yes, sir" Dean swallowed at the beautiful sight in front of him, white teeth, adorable dimples, a glimpse of happily glittering hazel-green orbs… His heart swelled with a mass of emotions, glad for his servant's experience of success. Shaking his head slightly to dismiss his distracting train of thoughts, he began leading Sam to the cashier with a smile. Soon they were standing in the parking lot, putting their purchases into the trunk and the backseat.

"We only have one more stop" Dean said as they sat in the car and drove away. After a couple minutes, the Impala pulled over in front of a small shop. Sam got out after his Master and followed him into the building. "Why don't you look around, see if you want something you like?"

"Thank you, sir" Sam replied with a happy grin and hurried away to look around. Dean chuckled at the eagerness of the boy.

Sam parked down in front of the candies and was eyeing the gummy worms, hoping to convince his Master to buy it. However, just as he plucked a package of it off the shelf, a sudden call stopped him:

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

As he looked up, his eyes landed on an older man stalking towards him. His grey eyes stabbed into him with such anger and hatred that Sam shuddered from the sight.

"I asked you a question!" the old man spat out as he stopped next to Sam.

"I-I'm s-sorry, sir, I-I-I just…" His stuttering was cut off by the back of the old man's hand, as he backhanded him. Sam fell into the shelf and collapsed onto the floor, bringing some of the ware with him.

"You just want to steal my stuff, don't you? You filthy little freak!"

"N-N-No, p-plea-"

"You're gonna pay for that, you disrespectful bastard!" Sam cried out as the old man brought his walking stick down onto his shoulder, tears instantly leaking out of his eyes from the stabbing pain. He whimpered when the stick swung upwards again, but before it could've been brought down, a hand shot out and grabbed it, snatching it out of the old man's hand.

"How dare you-!" the old man whirled around but he choked on his words as his eyes landed on Dean's furious expression. "Lord Winchester…"

"We talked about this, Marston" Dean hissed out, causing the old man to flinch, as if his tone had bitten into his skin. Sam was still gasping from the pain in his face and shoulder. For an old guy he sure hit pretty hard… "I told you what's going to happen-"

"But Lord Winchester, this… _slave…_" the old man's voice filled with so much venom that Sam jerked in fear. Dean must have seen it, because he raised his voice, suppressing Marston's excuse:

"I told you what's going to happen, if you dare to lift a finger on another one of my servants!" Sam's eyes widened. _Another? Who was attacked by this maniac?_

"Lord Winchester, please" Marston pleaded. "Don't do this to me! This shop… Let's just forget-"

"I never forget" Dean cut Marston off in a cold voice and threw the stick onto the floor in disgust. However, when he reached down and pulled Sam up onto his feet, he was as gentle as during Sam's breakdowns. "It's okay" he whispered, noticing the fresh tear tracks on Sam's face. He leaned down to the fallen items and picked up two packages of the gummy worms Sam had been eyeing before the attack. After another withering glare towards Marston, Dean helped Sam out of the shop, whose shoulder hurt so much that he was limping from the pain. All the way to the car, Dean had an arm around him and was whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

Dean helped Sam into the passenger's seat, careful about the boy's injuries. He already caught the forming bruise on Sam's cheek, so he hurried to the trunk to get something cold for it. He was trembling from fury. How could this happen again? After Marston had promised, _fucking swore_ that he wouldn't do this? Dean had forgiven him back then, but now he was beyond mad. He swore to himself that the moment they went home and Sam was alright, he will take action against this atrocity.

At last, he found a package of frozen peas. Seeing nothing better, he shut the lid of the trunk and returned to Sam's side.

"Here" he held the package out as he knelt down. "Where does it hurt more?"

"M' shoulder" Sam gasped out, sniffing miserably. Dean gently pulled the boy's shirt away and pressed the ice-cold package to the injured point, causing Sam to hiss and whimper from the flare of pain.

"Hold it here" Dean ordered him softly and waited until Sam grasped the package. Standing up, he shut the door and hurried to get in himself. He drove his servant back home as quick as he managed without causing Sam more pain by an accidental hit of a pothole. He felt his heart break when the whole attack sank in for Sam. He knew the moment that happened, because Sam began sobbing silently, his head lowered, chin touching his chest. Dean glanced at the boy then took his chance: he reached out and gripped at Sam's free hand in the boy's lap.

He felt Sam freeze, obviously stunned by Dean's move. Dean prayed for every high deity that Sam didn't push him away. He had to keep his concentration on the road, when he felt an answering squeeze on his fingers. He knew if he reveled in that simple gesture, he would wreck the car. They didn't let go of each other the whole way back.

* * *

><p>Dean quickly jumped out of the car and ran around it to Sam's side. Opening the door, he helped Sam get out then wrapping an arm around the boy's surprisingly thin waist Dean led him inside the mansion. Sam was still crying, obviously in a lot of pain, judging by the tight grip on Dean's hand and the limp he was still sporting.<p>

"Bloody hell!" the exclamation rang throughout the kitchen, when the pair stepped in. Alex hurried to Sam's side in worry, as Dean sat the boy onto a chair.

"Get some ice!" Dean ordered the young man, keeping his attention on Sam. Alex dashed away then returned a minute later with a cloth full of ice-blocks. Dean took it carefully then slowly pressed it onto Sam's bruised cheek. The boy gasped out a sob at the cold stabbing into the swelling skin. "How's your shoulder?" Dean asked quietly after guiding the boy's hand to the cloth, caressing Sam's flushed, uninjured cheek. "Does it still hurt?" Sam shook his head a little, his gaze glued to Dean's chest, like he was lost in his thoughts. "Where's Ramon?" Dean turned to Alex after taking the package of frozen peas out from under Sam's shirt.

"He's upstairs with the Mistress" Alex replied a bit dazed, confused by Sam's state.

"Stay with him!" Dean ordered him, standing up, and he rushed out of the kitchen. Alex knelt down in front of Sam, who was still staring ahead.

"Sam" Alex tried, but the boy stayed unresponsive. "Sammy" Alex called again even softer. The nickname seemed to work, because Sam jerked back into reality, his broken gaze pinning onto his friend. "What happened?" Sam seemed to be in some kind of shock, because he still hadn't given any sign of comprehension. "Sammy" Alex tried once more. "Was it Marston?"

Sam's eyes teared up at the name and Alex felt the fire of rage explode inside him. Keeping himself collected, he pulled Sam down into his arms, the boy resting his head on his friend's shoulder. He heard a long string of murmur leave Alex's mouth, the words 'bloody' and 'sodding' frequently used in it. Alex ran his fingers through the brown locks, trying to comfort his friend, all the while biting his cheek to stop the flow of tears.

"Why don't you lie down a little?" Alex suggested, pushing Sam upright.

"Stay with me?" Alex could've died from heartbreak, hearing the broken tone. He nodded without hesitation then helped Sam up and into the bedroom, taking it slowly because of the boy's limping. By the time Sam was in bed, Alex sitting next to him, keeping him calm, the boy came out of his stupor.

"He said _'another'_" Sam spoke, his voice still shaky.

"Who said that?" Alex asked, leaning down slightly to hear the quiet words.

"Master" Sam replied, finally looking at Alex. "He said _'if you dare to lift a finger on another one of my servants'_." He paused at the gulp that bobbed Alex's Adam's apple, when the young man looked away. "What did he mean?" Sam watched his friend fight an inner battle before sighing.

"Me" Alex replied. Sam's eyes widened at that. "He meant me."

"What?" Sam breathed out in disbelief.

"Marston was always favoring the old times" Alex explained silently. "The times when the slaves were punished hard for every little thing, even for being different than the average people. When the circumstances changed, not just in the law but in people's beliefs, too, he stuck with that point of view.

"One day" Alex's voice began trembling here, "the Master took me out to help with shopping. He gave me a list then sent me into Marston's shop. I was alone, because the Master checked out something in another shop. When… when I touched one of his wares, he…" Alex shut his eyes tightly against the images assaulting his mind, tears squeezing out from under his eyelids. Sam grabbed his friend's forearm, lending him strength to share his story. "Marston attacked me…" Alex sniffed, laying his hand onto Sam's. "He slapped me so hard I fell down then… he got that… stick out and…" When sobs broke out of Alex's body, Sam pulled his friend down into an embrace, ignoring his own pains in favor of comforting the young man. "No, you're hurt…" Alex refused, trying to stop him, but Sam was stubborn.

"You need it" he said firmly, but softly. Alex then let himself be manhandled, until he was lying next to Sam, his head on the boy's chest. "What happened then?"

"He beat me… really hard… the Master said I was barely conscious when he came to look for me… I only remember the pain… then relief when I heard the Master's voice…"

"God, that bastard!" Sam whispered angrily. Alex buried his face into Sam's chest and the boy knew his friend was ashamed about the incident. "Why don't you get some rest?" he asked, but Alex just shook his head.

"Alex" they turned towards the door, their gazes landing on Mark, who stepped closer to the bed. "You should take a nap. You need it."

"I need to make lunch" Alex began getting onto his feet. Shaking his head at the young man's pigheadedness, Mark helped him up. When Alex left the bedroom, Mark took a seat next to Sam.

"How are you holdin' up?" he asked, brushing Sam's growing bangs away.

"I'll live" Sam replied with a sardonic smile.

"You're lucky that you got away with only this much injury" Mark remarked with a soft hiss as he looked at the bruise on Sam's cheek. "Alex was almost beaten to death, thanks to Marston's treatment." Sam felt sick just from the thought of such aggressiveness. "You can't forget that much blood easily."

At that moment, a phone's ringing echoed throughout the mansion. After a few rings, it was silenced then Dean's voice exploded upstairs. Sam shivered in fear: the Master was beyond furious by the sound of it. He couldn't make out the words, but he somehow knew Dean was screaming louder than on the morning when Sam was caught smoking.

The shouting went on for quite a while. By the time it ended, Sam was curled up, his body shaking as he had to listen to such rage. After a brief pause a crash shook the ceiling, causing Sam to whimper. Mark pulled him closer, soothingly stroking the boy's back, mindful about the hurt shoulder.

"It's over" the young man whispered. "It's over…"

_TBC_

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><p><strong>So, how was it? Good?<strong>

**I'm gonna keep my promise, don't worry! I just need a little time to "make it happen" in my mind. :)  
><strong>

**Please, Read and Review (and be gentle, okay? ^.^)!  
><strong>

**See you at the next chapter!  
><strong>


	14. Match Made In Heaven, Part 2

**ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!  
><strong>

**ULTIMATE WARNING IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**AU, OOC, SLASH! Yes, you read it right!  
><strong>

**Hey, guys! I've got some good news for you. When you're going to read on, your wish will be granted. (At least I hope. :D)  
><strong>

**Anyway, this is a looong chappy, so enjoy it! I don't know if I can write this much again. Who knows what Missy and Sadie have in store for me? :)  
><strong>

**So, have fun with this chapter! Hope you'll like it!**

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><p><em>Chapter 14: Match Made In Heaven, Part 2<em>**  
><strong>

Sam spent the rest of the day in bed, the shock of the attack slowly wearing off. All of the other servants visited him to make sure he was alright, Alex returning as much as he could. Sam was glad that they worried about him like he was a family member, missing the feeling, but he also felt bad for keeping everyone's attention on him. He didn't want to cause them trouble and all the caring made him feel a little useless. Like he was a burden to the others.

Even the Mistress came to see him. Sam was just calming down from the screaming he had heard from upstairs, knowing it was because of him. He was startled when the bedroom door suddenly burst open and Mary ran through it, heading straight to him. The hug Sam received was so painfully familiar and surprisingly pleasant that Sam melted into the lithe arms holding him tightly. Mary caressed his tresses tenderly, only as a mother could in need of comforting. Sam felt tears run down his cheeks as the picture of his mother and the memory of that strong, loving hold that had surrounded him so many times during his childhood swam into his mind.

Mary didn't do anything else. She didn't say a word, she didn't even move except for the gentle rocking and the soft petting of Sam's head. She gave strength to the young servant the only way she knew how… and Sam took everything in, wanting to feel the closest to motherly love he was able to find.

Eventually Sam dozed off into a light sleep in Mary's arms. When she noticed it, she laid him gently against the pillows and tucked him in, brushing the stray bangs off his forehead. Sam hummed contently, shifting more into the pillow and the touch, bringing an adoring smile onto Mary's face. She couldn't stop herself to lay a kiss onto the smooth brow and comb her fingers through the slowly growing tresses, before leaving the room.

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><p>Sam woke with a hiss not much time later. He had to take a few seconds to realize that he put too much pressure onto his injured shoulder, the pain of it startling him awake. Marston must have hit on a particularly sensitive spot for it to hurt this much. Waiting a little bit, eyes closed and breaths deep, he managed to overcome the throbbing. Swallowing, he winced at the sting in his parched throat. He slowly sat up, using his good arm, and got out of bed, scrubbing his eyes as he made his way out of the bedroom and to the kitchen.<p>

"I'm fine, alright? Stop pestering me!"

The irritated voice stopped Sam just as he reached the door of the kitchen. Not wanting to intrude but feeling curious, he peeked around the frame to see what was going on.

Alex was at the stove, a sponge in his hand, and he was scrubbing at the top with a little more force than it was necessary. Mark was standing next to him, a firm look on his face as he examined Alex.

"You know you're not" Mark snapped back. "_I_ know you're not fine. So why are you trying to deny it? You need to deal with this, man…"

"I don't have to deal with anything" Alex exclaimed angrily, slapping the sponge down onto the stove. "Would you just leave me alone?"

"Alex" Mark's voice turned softer and more caring. "You know why I worry. What happened to Sam… It could trigger something." Alex flinched visibly and Sam realized what they were arguing about. Mark reached out and stroked Alex's back. "I just don't like to see you hurting… I want to help."

Deep silence stretched on in the room, Sam feeling its pressure on his body. None of them moved for quite a while, then…

"I felt it again…"

If Sam hadn't been watching Alex's face and hadn't seen his mouth move, he would've thought the whisper had been in his head. Now he noticed the tears rolling down the young man's cheek.

"Every hit… every bite of that stick… every crack of my bones…"

Mark pulled Alex into his arms, shushing Alex's distress, his lips against the other's temple. Alex instantly clutched at Mark's shirt, his face burrowed into the young man's neck, sobs wracking his body.

"I-It hurt s-so much-ch" Alex choked out between gasps. Sam noticed Mark's hands beginning to shake and a painful furrow of strain on his forehead. Sam didn't know what that meant, but Alex must have felt the change in the young man's behavior, because he pressed a kiss onto Mark's neck and took the lead of their rocking.

"I-I'm okay now" Alex whispered hurriedly. Sam watched in worry as Mark's eyes glazed over a bit, before they were shut tightly. "I'm alright, it's okay… I'm alright, I'm alright, I'm alright…" Those two words were repeated over and over again, in the same hurried but calming manner. Sam saw Mark's body slowly relax and the young man buried his face into Alex's shoulder. Alex breathed a 'Thank you' upwards as he buried his fingers into Mark's blonde hair.

Sam stepped back from the door, leaning against the wall while he waited for things to settle. What was that? What happened to Mark back there? It seemed like he was… straining to stay in the present… or maybe… _in reality?_

Alex had told him that Mark was mentally unstable, exploding when he was too pressured or emotionally stressed. Obviously the memory of Alex, his lover, almost beaten to death sent him into distress and Alex's admission was just icing on the cake. But now, the proof of the two being the perfect couple was just presented for Sam. The fact that Mark could break down Alex's walls and that Alex could keep Mark steady in the danger of exploding made it worth all the work Sam did to get the two together.

"Are you okay?" Alex asked and Sam peeked around the doorframe again. The young man was holding Mark's head with both hands, cupping his cheeks tenderly. Mark had his eyes closed, but not as tightly as before, and kept a steadying grip on each of Alex's wrists. Soon Mark looked up and the haze in front of his eyes from before was gone. After a meek nod, Mark spoke up:

"Are you?"

In answer, Alex pulled the young man into a tender kiss, his hands sliding onto Mark's neck, cradling it. Mark wrapped his arms around Alex's smaller form and pulled him even closer, making Alex turn his head to the side if he wanted to continue the kiss. Sam then decided to get his drink at that moment. The couple pulled out of the kiss when Sam cleared his throat to announce his presence.

"Sorry" Sam shrugged a little sheepishly. "I just need some water."

Alex immediately jumped to the cupboard to get a glass and fill it with water. Sam noticed Mark's uncomfortable shifting and he guessed that the young man was self-conscious about his episodes.

"You shouldn't be out of bed, though" Alex scolded Sam after giving him the water. "Why didn't you call for one of us to get something to drink for you?"

"I…" Sam blushed slightly, ducking his head, "I didn't want to bother you…"

Alex just shook his head with a sigh, before picking up the sponge and returning to the stove. Sam slowly sipped at the water, letting it sooth his burning throat. The change in his friend was noticeable. That small confession was enough to settle Alex's mind about Marston and Sam was glad. He didn't like to see him suffer, either.

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><p>As evening arrived, chasing the sun below the horizon, Sam was already in his bed resting. The pain was gradually fading, just like the bruises on his skin. After he had drunk the water, Alex had ordered him to rest, even helped him back to bed. Sam had blushed at the treatment, feeling some indignation at the babying. He just hoped that this will stop soon, so he could return to be useful again.<p>

When Sam turned on the lamp to see the letters in the book he had gotten from Ramon, the bedroom door opened up. Sam sighed in frustration, thinking it was Alex checking on him. Ever since he had stood up to get some water, his friend had looked in on him in almost every other minute, making sure Sam stayed put.

"Yes, I'm still in bed and resting, not even trying to strain myself with doing anything" he said loudly, not even looking up from the book. He just had enough of the attention. The next moment his heart skipped a beat:

"I can see that."

Sam snapped his head up and met with amused jade-green eyes and smirking full lips. Dean was standing in the doorway, looking at his servant with an expression that said: _'You can't even imagine how funny this is.'_ Sam blushed as he quickly closed the book and placed it onto the nightstand, settling back against the headboard and the pillows.

Dean closed the door and walked to Sam's bed, taking a seat on the edge of it. His eyes roamed over Sam's form, visibly relieved to see his servant alright.

"How do you feel?" he asked, when there was no sign of Sam wanting to speak. Dean smirked, knowing what the boy would have said by now if he hadn't been so shocked: _'I'm so sorry…'_

"I-I'm fine, sir" Sam replied, eyes fixed on his hands. "Thank you for asking."

"Good to hear" Dean muttered, his eyes boring into Sam. The boy blushed deeper, probably sensing his Master's gaze.

Sam felt his heart beat faster and the butterflies begin their usual dance in his stomach. The room got a little warmer in the last few seconds, the heat of Dean's leg leant against Sam's side making it so much worse. The scent of that unique cologne filled his nose and lungs and he unconsciously took in even deeper breaths, not having enough of it.

"I made some calls" Dean spoke suddenly.

"What do you mean, sir?" Sam asked confused.

"I reported Marston to the authorities. He should be arrested and in jail by now."

"I'm sorry-" Sam started, guilt churning his heart at the trouble he caused.

"Would you stop apologizing for everything?" Dean retorted gently. "Not everything is your fault."

"I'm s-" Sam's words were cut off by the hand pressing onto his mouth. His lips instantly began burning from the touch of those calloused fingers. He had to blush again. If he felt like this from a simple touch, what would it be like to… kiss him…?

"By the way" Dean continued, taking his hand away, a bit confused by the sudden redness in Sam's cheeks. "This wasn't the first time he did something like this. Only I was the first from the upper classes who actually stepped up against him. I have to talk to Alex, though. They might find out about the attack against him and he could get into trouble for not telling anything of it to anyone. I thought I could protect him like that…"

Sam's heart broke at the sad look that slid onto his Master's face. Dean had gotten lost in his thoughts, so Sam had dared to look up at him. But to think that Alex can be held responsible for keeping this quiet… Or would they hold the Master responsible for it?

"Anyway" Dean said, taking a deep breath. "I just came here to tell you this. And to assure you that not every person is that way towards slaves. Most of them are very tolerant and even kind to them. So you don't have to worry about anyone mistreating you."

"I understand" Sam nodded, touched by the obvious concern in his Master's voice. He startled when the back of a finger brushed at his uninjured cheek and when he looked up, the Master's face was slightly closer. Sam couldn't help but look away from the piercing gaze, fearing that they would see into his heart, into his soul, and discover what he's been trying to hide away. A sigh broke the silence between them, turning the mood sour by the resignation in it.

"Get some rest" Dean murmured, caressing Sam's cheek one last time, before leaving. Sam lay in his bed frozen, his gaze stuck on the slowly closing door, hazel-green dimming from hurt and misery. He lifted his hand to his cheek, touching lightly the skin where Dean brushed his finger down on it, almost afraid that it was his imagination.

_Why?_

He turned away from the door, his chest painfully tight, vision blurring. He was shaking from that overwhelming emotion that took him over every time Dean talked to him, touched him or even just looked at him. It made Sam's heart beat faster, his breath escape from his lungs and butterflies flutter in his stomach, before he tumbled down from the skies by the weight of reality landing onto his whole body and mind.

_Why?_

He never heard the creak of the opening door, or noticed the sudden darkness as the light was turned off. He was just laying on his side, forgetting the outside world, the pain in his chest breaking his heart, filling up his senses and his mind. As a teardrop slipped down his cheek, moistening the pillow under his head, one thought ran through his mind before sleep consumed him:

_ Why can't you love me?_

* * *

><p>The next morning Sam woke up, his body was a little stiff from sleeping in the same position the whole night. Carefully lifting himself onto his feet, he walked slowly out of the bedroom and into the bathroom to have a shower. The pressure of the water helped to unwind his muscles and joints and the lingering ache in his shoulder and cheek diminished. As he dried himself off, he checked his injuries in the mirror. Thanks to the cold that had been applied to the bruises, the purple faded into soft green and yellow and the swelling reduced. He gently rolled his shoulder, but other than a tiny crack of the joint, nothing happened.<p>

Freshened up and dressed into clean clothes, he made his way into the kitchen, letting Ramon into the bathroom with a smile. Alex was already cooking up a storm, breakfast set out for the other servants by now. Sam didn't dare to disturb his friend, seeing the dark, nervous look on his face, so he just sat down and began eating as quietly as he could.

"Are you alright now?" came the question so suddenly that the fork fell out of Sam's hand with a clatter. When he looked up, he saw Alex watching him worriedly, eyes sliding fleetingly onto the bruise on Sam's cheek.

"Yeah" Sam replied a little breathlessly. His heart almost skipped a beat from the jump. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine now. It doesn't even hurt." And to prove his statement, he sent a wide smile to his friend. Alex seemed to relax somewhat before turning back to the stove with a nod.

At that moment, Mark and Ramon stepped into the kitchen, the older man sitting next to Sam to start his breakfast.

"Hey, Alex" Mark stepped to the young man, wrapping an arm around his waist, but Alex stayed tense. "Is everything alright?" Mark asked. Sam noted the caution in his voice. Was Alex so terrifying when nervous?

"He tends to blow up if something doesn't work as he planned" Ramon whispered, keeping an eye on Alex. "It's not very pretty, but it gets less and less if more big events are organized."

"It's okay, for now" Alex answered, his voice trembling. Mark massaged his shoulder and pressed a soothing kiss onto Alex's temple, who in turn relaxed into his hold, head leaning onto the other's shoulder. Sam smirked at the obvious love between the two, a stab landing into his heart from the sadness that usually plagues him in moments like this.

"So" Ramon spoke, diverting Sam's attention from the couple, "if you feel up to it, we're gonna do some harder duties before the charity dinner."

"I'm okay" Sam nodded eagerly. He had just about enough of lying in bed. "We can do it."

"Eat your breakfast then we can get on with it!"

After breakfast, Sam quickly did his morning chores then joined Ramon at the entrance of the Great Ballroom. At first Sam washed the floor then dusted the furniture inside, getting rid of the cobwebs in the edges of the room. Between the two of them, the piano was carried to the end of the room and out of the way then a couple of couches were placed in the middle and some tables at the wall for the food.

After that, Ramon brought a long ladder in while Sam retrieved a bucket full of water and the window-cleaner. With Ramon holding the ladder, Sam climbed up and cleaned all of the windows from top to bottom. Sam had to keep himself calm when he was balancing on the very top of the ladder, but Ramon kept up an easy conversation during the higher parts. However, no matter how much the older man had succeeded to distract him, he gave a huge sigh when he was done.

"Looks good" Ramon said when everything was ready, and held his hand up. Sam gave him a high-five with a victorious grin. Sam combed his fingers through his hair as they retreated to the servants' quarter, their job finished. He already had his shirt-sleeves rolled up, and he smelled like window-cleaner, but his heart was filled with contentment the success had given him. It was like in the mall, but much greater.

"Could you air the bedrooms?" Ramon asked him at the kitchen door. "I'll talk to the Master." Sam nodded and hurried through the kitchen, remaining as quiet as possible around Alex, not wanting to anger him. Mark was already outside maintaining the garden. Sam slowly went through the rooms beginning in the other end of the mansion and making his way from that side to the other. When he reached the last room, he met with the Mistress, who was reading at the window, which was already open.

"Sam" she exclaimed, jumping up from the armchair and hurrying to the boy, embracing him tightly. Sam couldn't help but smile and return the hug. "It's great to see you up and strong."

"Thank you, miss" Sam bowed his head respectfully. "I'm sorry for being a nuisance."

"Sweetie, you were attacked" Mary retorted firmly. "It's obvious that you'll need more care and attention because of that. But are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, miss" Sam nodded. "I'm really fine. I realized I can't wallow in every punch I get from this life. I know I'm a slave and I know that there are others that don't like it and they never will."

"But you're a human being, as well" Mary argued. "Just because you're labeled as someone in a supposedly "lower" status, it doesn't mean that they can treat you however they want. You have a right to live, no matter what."

"As long as there are a few people who believe that, there's still hope" Sam spoke quietly. Mary felt tears gather in her eyes. How can someone be so innocent and so mature at the same time?

"Alright" she spoke, closing the subject. "I'm sure you have some work to do, so I let you go." With another hug, Mary returned to the armchair and her book, while Sam left the room, his mind going over the things that were said. He felt a little lighter from the Mistress' words. He had told the truth, though. He really was fine and over with what'd happened. Marston was reported at the authorities and that piece of news was enough closure for Sam to leave this incident in the past. Now he only had his injuries as a reminder, but they will fade in time.

Sam sighed in relief then couldn't help but grimace at the smell surrounding him. Now he just wanted a shower.

* * *

><p>The start of the charity dinner was drawing closer and closer. Everyone was banned from the kitchen, Alex ready to bite their head off if anyone dared to disturb him. Sam decided to use the main hallways until the dinner, and noticed the others following his lead.<p>

Soon the evening has arrived, the sky darkening rapidly. Sam was ordered into the kitchen to help with the final preparations. Alex gave him and Ramon trays after trays of food, which they had to carry to the tables in the back hallway next to the Great Ballroom. Sam was moving slower, not trusting his hands and not wanting to anger his friend. The tables gradually filled up and he hadn't dropped any of the food he had been carrying.

At one moment, he just placed a tray onto the table when he heard Dean's voice in the Ballroom. As he looked up, he saw his Master talking to his mother. Dean was dressed formally – and what a sight he made. The black suit fit him perfectly, accentuating his hard shoulders and muscular chest that Sam had been leaning against a few times. A light green tie adorned the white shirt he was wearing that Sam had washed just that morning. The color brought out Dean's eyes, making them noticeable even in that distance. Sam couldn't help but look his Master over, taking in the sight, feeling the air heat up around him as it settled onto Sam's body, especially on his skin.

The green eyes landed on Sam, who startled out of his thoughts at that. Sam blushed furiously as he turned around and hurried back towards the kitchen, missing the raised eyebrow and the confused look his actions received from his Master. Sam cursed his mind and body inwardly. Why did he have to go through this torture every time? Why did he grow hot just from the sight of his Master? Why couldn't he serve him in peace? Why did he have to crush on his Master, the one person he couldn't have?

As he turned to the right to step into the kitchen, a smaller form slammed into his and a huge crash filled the kitchen and the corridor. Sam was yanked out of his miserable thoughts to see a fuming Alex in front of him and a tray of food on the floor, splattered in a wide range.

"Look what you did, you bloody imbecile!" Alex shouted angrily at Sam. The boy was so taken aback from the sudden outburst that he stepped back in fear. "Watch where you bloody walk, you idiot!"

"I'm s-sorry" Sam stuttered out, feeling his stomach churn from guilt. He stepped forward to get into the kitchen. "I'll take care of it…"

"Just get out of my sight, before I do something I'm going to regret!" Alex cut him off, shaking from rage and shoved Sam out of the way quite forcefully. Sam couldn't move, hurt filling him from Alex's behavior. What was wrong with his friend? Why was he so hostile towards him? Sam's throat tightened, hating himself for being so clumsy and useless. A hand rested onto his back and when he turned around, he met with Mark's sympathetic look.

"It's okay" the young man whispered, steering Sam away from the scene and towards the kitchen.

"I didn't mean to do it" Sam murmured, cursing his voice for shaking.

"We know that" Mark soothed him, wrapping an arm around Sam's waist, ignoring the height difference. "These things happen all the time. Alex is just a little stressed out." Mark sighed when he saw Sam wiping at his eyes, tears of sorrow and shame gathering in them anyway. "Really, it's okay" he said as they stepped into the bedroom. "Last year when I accidentally hit a glass out of his hand, he cursed me to Hell and wished it to freeze over with me in it."

"What?" Sam asked shocked, sitting down onto his bed and Mark joining him.

"Yeah" Mark shrugged with a smile. "You can't take these to heart, because he doesn't mean them. Believe me, when all of this is over, he'll be by your side every five minutes apologizing." Sam snickered softly, feeling slightly better. "Why don't you get to bed?" Mark offered, standing up. "We can manage this for now, and someone will wake you when you have to clean the Ballroom."

"Okay" Sam nodded and Mark left the room with a reassuring smile. Sam sat in his place for a couple minutes to get himself together, trying to convince himself that Alex was just strung out from nervousness and wasn't trying to hurt him on purpose. Although he was still feeling offended, he forced himself to get over it, knowing he would feel better after some rest.

He just stood up to get ready for bed, when the crunch of gravel flowed into the room. Sam realized that the first guests must have arrived to the dinner. The lightning of realization struck into him so out of the blue that he jerked from it. What if…?

Sam hurried out of the bedroom and straight to the entrance of the servants' quarter. Opening the door to a crack, he peeked out into the entrance hall. He had the perfect angle to see the arrival of the guests.

Mary was standing at the door, greeting the first couple that arrived with a bright smile. As more cars rolled into the driveway, more guests appeared at the big double door, until there was a flow of people. Sam looked at every one of them, hoping desperately and deflating after a look at each of the faces.

"What are you looking at?"

Sam jumped, swearing softly as the Master's voice spoke behind him. He was going to get a heart attack these days. Why did everyone have to sneak up on him? He sent a mild glare towards the man before turning back to the guests.

"Sorry" came the sheepish reply to his glare, before Sam froze as the warmth filled his back: Dean was peeking over his shoulder, curious about what held his servant's attention so firmly. "Are you expecting someone?"

Sam swallowed as the desperation grew in him with every passing person that disappeared in the Ballroom.

"I'm hoping" he whispered, wishing that the next person would be the one he was looking for. A soft brush of air ran over the back of his neck, eliciting a shiver down his spine. Dean was so close to him… He could smell the menthol of his toothpaste…

"For your father?" Sam had to swallow again. Was he that obvious? "Did he attend charity dinners?"

"Yeah" Sam answered softly, his heart sinking more and more as the flow of guests began waning. "He did, before… all of this…" Before they realized Sam was different, before they ran away and decided to hide… Before Sam's mother died… Sam was a little stunned when he hadn't jumped from the pair of arms sliding around his waist and pulling him to the hard chest behind him. This time it was consciously welcome.

They stood like that until the last of the guests arrived. Sam felt his body slump from disappointment and his breaths stuttered from his suppressed sobs. As his knees buckled, the arms around him tightened and Dean's head lay onto his shoulder, keeping Sam up. Sam gripped at the hands on his hips, searching for comfort and support. One arm slipped up and around his chest, aligning his back completely with Dean's chest, so Sam wouldn't fall forward. Sam let his Master take his weight for a minute, just taking his time to gather the strength needed to go on with his days. The strength that was supplied by the person behind him, holding him.

"Let's get you into bed" Dean breathed into Sam's ear, feeling a tiny shiver run through his servant's body. The boy must be really upset about his father's absence. As Sam straightened out, holding himself up shakily, Dean helped him into the bedroom and into Sam's bed. Making sure the boy could fall asleep, Dean caressed Sam's cheek before leaving for the charity dinner. He was certain, though, that his thoughts would stay with the brown-haired beauty just a few feet away from him.

* * *

><p>Sam woke up to a hand shaking his shoulder lightly. Silence settled onto his ears; he vaguely remembered some music in his dreams. Blinking groggily, he turned towards the one who woke him: it was Mark.<p>

"Hey" the young man whispered. Sam scrubbed at his eyes and leaned up onto his elbows.

"What happened?" he asked. His mind just registered the light snoring in the background and the silver light of the moon.

"The dinner is over" Mark replied softly. "You can go and clean the Ballroom. Don't worry, it's not that bad."

Sam nodded and slowly got out of his bed. Mark patted his shoulder as a yawn escaped him. Sam stood up and stretched before making his way out and to the supply closet. Grabbing a broom and the dustpan, he snuck out of the servants' quarter, careful not to make any noise and wake the tired servants up.

Stepping into the Ballroom and turning on the lights, Sam assessed the state of the place. There were a few napkins and toothpicks littered around on the floor and some dirty plates and wine glasses on the tables. Leaning the broom against the wall, Sam gathered the plates first, carrying them into the kitchen and dumping them gently into the sink. Those were soon followed by the glasses, arranged on the counter one after the other in perfect lines. Making his way towards the tables in the back hallway, he picked up the empty trays from there, as well. As he walked back to the kitchen, he noticed the stains on the floor where one tray of food had fallen. Sam felt the usual shame and guilt creep into his heart as he passed it, hating himself for his clumsiness.

However, just as he pushed those feelings aside, the trays slipped in his arms and the one on top fell off with a big clank. Sam dumped the trays in his arms into the sink with a little more force than necessary, anger clouding his senses. Plucking the fallen tray up and chucking it amongst the others, he stomped out of the kitchen and back to the Ballroom. He grabbed at the broom, but the handle slipped out of his fingers and hit the floor loudly. Sam bowed down and snatched it up. His hands began to shake then, fed up with everything, he threw the broom away with a growl. The harsh knocking of the wood echoed around the Ballroom and the entrance hall.

Sam buried his face into his hands, taking deep breaths, forcing his frustration back. This was too much… Everything… He had enough of it… He'd lost everything: his mother, his home, his father and with him his family… He lost his old life… And now, his dignity… He was degraded from a normal human to a freak slave in a matter of one day. He never felt so betrayed, humiliated and alone… Why wasn't life ever fair…?

"Sam? You okay?"

Sam froze, eyes widening, hands falling away from his face. He just realized what he'd done. His tense body relaxed slightly at that voice, the voice that kept him sane during these weeks, the voice that promised that amazingly pleasant touch, sometimes on his cheek, surrounding his chin… But he couldn't let himself be off-guard around him. He was stubborn enough not to let this weakness break him…

"Sam?"

_… or was he?_

"I'm sorry, sir" he said, keeping his tone calm and steady. He heard Dean walk closer and stop behind him. "I didn't mean to make such a racket."

Dean's hand smoothed onto his shoulder – Sam closed his eyes for a moment; that voice never broke its promise – and turned him around. Keeping his eyes lowered, Sam noticed that the man was in his pajamas. Was he getting ready for bed or was he just awoken by the noise?

"What's wrong?" Dean asked, stepping closer to his servant. His eyes took in the golden glow of the chestnut-brown tresses under the lamplight. His fingers twitched slightly. _Why don't you look at me…?_ "Maybe I can help…"

"No…" Sam breathed, but it sounded like a scream in the silence. "No, you can't…" To his mortification, a teardrop rolled down his cheek. Before he could get away and sort his emotions out, Dean's other hand lifted up. The teardrop that came to a stop on his chin decided then to let go…

_… and landed on Dean's fingers._

Both of them froze at the sudden moment. Sam watched the glitter of liquid on his Master's hand, feeling as if someone had crashed through his bedroom door while he was having a moment of weakness. Dean, however, was shocked, unable to imagine that Sam could hide his suffering so well. How many nights had this beautiful boy cried himself to sleep from the agony of the previous weeks? How many times had he hidden away to set his strong façade back on?

"I-I need to clean up, sir" Sam began, trying to step away from the older man, but Dean grabbed his upper arm, holding on tightly.

"Please, don't go!" Dean spoke, almost pleadingly, and stepped even closer to Sam. The boy bit back a gasp, when the older man's body pressed lightly against his, and he leaned back a little, feeling his will shaken from the sensation. Dean's free hand slowly lifted up and cradled Sam's chin, lifting it up. Sam couldn't stop the glance up into those jade-green eyes, and his own widened. Dean was so close… He could see the lines in the irises… "You're so beautiful, Sam…" Dean breathed out, involuntarily by the sight of a little surprise sneaking into his eyes.

"Sir… Please, let me go…" Sam whimpered, trembling from the want waking up inside him at the sound of his name spoken like that and the pleasant warmth of the other body against his.

"Why should I?" Dean asked firmly. "I lost so much in my life… I don't want to lose you, too…" Sam's heart lurched in his chest from his own thoughts coming out of his Master's mouth. How much had Fate wanted to torture him? Sorrow and sympathy settled onto him as he realized how similar their life had been. Only Sam lost everything in a smaller period of time. He didn't have too much time to deal with them, not like Dean.

"Sir, please…" he breathed. The same sentence reverberated in his mind: _I don't want to lose you, too…_

"I know you want it" Sam shook his head slightly at the statement, dislodging his head with his denial. "Why not?" Dean asked a little desperately, trying to crumble Sam's stubborn refusal.

"It's not right" Sam's voice rose as he wrenched his arm out of Dean's grip and stumbled back to put some space between him and the Master. "I'm just a servant and sir is my Master. We can't be anything more…"

Dean froze at the boy's answer. Did he really think that? Did he really think that some title or rank can stop this between them? Dean felt anger rise in him. He will be damned if he lets this chance slip away from him!

"Other Masters or Mistresses have affairs with their servants without being shunned by-"

_"What?"_

The hissed word muted Dean's angered rant. The older man's eyes widened as he realized what he'd said. How could those words leave his mouth so harshly? Dean stepped closer, trying to save himself, to make up for his huge, huge mistake, but his head snapped to the side from the hard slap Sam gave him.

"You… How could you… I'm not…" Sam couldn't breath from the rage swirling inside him. What did this bastard think? That he was some cheap whore for the higher ranked people's pleasure? Fuming in indignation, he marched towards the entrance of the Great Hall, wiping away his hurtful tears that flowed down his cheeks, and gasping against a sob. Was Sam wrong about the Master's intentions? Did he really think so poorly of him? That he would do anything just to please his Master? Well, he'd better think again, because…

His inner tirade of anger was cut off by a strong grip closing around his wrist. He knew immediately who caught him, so he turned around to yank himself out of the hold. Sure enough, Dean was fighting to keep him still, now his free hand grabbing Sam's other wrist when the boy swung it towards him for a hit.

"Sam, stop it!"

"Let me go, you son of a bitch!"

"Please, you don't understand-"

"Oh, I understood it perfectly!" Sam cursed his voice when it wavered. He groaned from the effort to slip out of Dean's hold, but the older man surprised him by grabbing his upper arms and shaking him.

"Would you just hear me out?" Dean raised his voice. Sam made a last attempt to push him away, but the older man didn't budge. Taking deep, shaky breaths and keeping his hands on the Master's chest to hold him back, Sam fell silent waiting for an explanation.

"Other Masters or Mistresses have affairs with their servants without being shunned by society" Dean tried again and he was ready now, when Sam opened his mouth. "Just listen!" Sam closed his mouth and waited. "If they can do that" Dean stepped closer, making Sam bend his arms, since he still hadn't let up his hold, "then why can't I have an honest relationship with mine without fearing the wrath of other people?"

Sam froze in shock, eyes widening. What was he saying? Could it be…? That's not possible… Dean continued, his voice now barely above a whisper:

"The moment I saw you in the dining room, full of innocence and anxiety, I knew that you were special. I wanted to protect you from everything, to keep you with myself so no one can hurt you… Then I had a chance to witness your other side, right in this very room, while you were playing the piano, passion directing your every move… I wanted that passion to fill me up… I never understood the feelings you raised in me. Why I was getting breathless every time I saw or met you. Why my mind relaxed when you spoke to me. Why my heart skipped a beat when I saw your beautiful smile. But most importantly" Dean cradled Sam's chin with one hand, lifting the boy's gaze up, "why I felt all of these things and so much more from one simple glimpse of your eyes…"

Sam was shaking now, eyes overflowing with tears, not daring to believe what he was hearing. _Someone wake me up,_ he thought desperately, _before it's too late…_

"I tried to fight it" Dean whispered now, caressing Sam's cheek, wiping the flow of crystals away. "I didn't want to acknowledge it, afraid that if I do, I could lose you… But I can't do it anymore. I have to surrender."

"Sir…" Sam breathed, now afraid himself. "Don't…"

"Sam" Dean cut him off, begging with his eyes to not be rejected. "I need you. I…" he swallowed, before gathering the courage to speak. "I love you."

Sam closed his eyes in pain, tears leaking out profusely. He bowed his head, finally letting the sobs break out of him. He buried his fingers in his hair, gripping it desperately. _This can't be happening…_ Hands rested on his, like they were trying to keep his mind together, not letting it fall apart.

"No…" Sam choked out and the fingers jerked above his own.

"Sam, please…" Dean breathed. The boy's heart broke some more: his Master was _begging!_ "You can't tell me you haven't noticed it. I want you." Dean lifted Sam's head up, looking into the reddened eyes. "I need you. Ever since that day, I knew it, I just didn't realize it until now. I can only live with you by my side. I can see us in the future, having a family… Can't you see it, too? Can't you see a little boy with blonde hair and hazel-green eyes running around in the yard? Or a little girl with beautiful chestnut-brown locks and green eyes giggling her little head off?" Sam couldn't help but laugh himself at the image, but his heart was in pieces now from the emotions exploding inside him.

"I. Want. You" Dean repeated, enunciating every word. "I want a family with you. I want to have children with you, who can fill this huge house with laughter and joy… I love you…"

Sam saw every emotion in the older man's eyes lighting up as Dean spoke the words. They were crystal-clear, but Sam still couldn't believe them.

"Please, sir" he whimpered. "Don't do this…"

Dean's whole expression fell, as his hopes crushed, turning to dust. After all this, after laying his heart out, baring it completely, he's getting rejected? How can life be so cruel to him? However, as he was ready to let Sam go, the boy bowed his head again, fingers returning to their grip, and one short sentence left him:

"Please, don't do this to me…"

Dean felt his heart stop. If there hadn't been silence around them, he couldn't have heard the whisper. Now, though, it seemed his wishes may have a chance to be fulfilled. That one sentence was proof enough that Sam was feeling and suffering the same way as him. Dean just had to show the boy that everything he said was true.

He gently disentangled Sam's fingers from the brown tresses and lowered them. Wrapping his arms around the boy's waist, he stepped closer, pulling the other into his hold. Sam laid his hands onto Dean's chest, one last futile attempt to stop him, but Dean was determined. He leaned closer, his eyes pinning onto those hazel-green crystals…

_ … and he touched thin, trembling lips with his own._

Sam's eyes widened even more, while Dean's closed in relief. The older man couldn't have been happier. He finally got a taste of those luscious lips framing that blindingly beautiful smile. He pressed his own fuller lips onto them firmly, showing the boy how serious he was about this. As he felt the coldness of a tear against his cheek, he gasped slightly: Sam returned the kiss. The boy's answer was like his personality: innocent, shy, nervous… But as Sam closed his eyes, the flutter of his lashes brushing at Dean's cheek, the light kiss slowly became steadier, stronger and more passionate… It reminded Dean the way the boy was playing the piano: starting out gently, experimenting then landing in the swirl of enjoyment and fervor…

Dean tightened his hold around the slim waist and Sam's hand traveled up and around his neck, pulling him in just a little more. When Dean moved his lips to get a feel of the curve of the boy's mouth, Sam did the same, as well, almost at the same time as Dean. The boy's lips were slightly chapped and as Dean tilted his head some more, salty taste slipped into his mouth…

_But it was the most perfect kiss he had ever experienced in his life._

After a couple of minutes they slowly, slightly reluctantly separated. Dean gasped in a silent breath, just searing the feel of the kiss into his mind, never wanting to forget it. When he opened his eyes, he noticed that Sam's were still shut and the boy licked his lips carefully, like he wanted to savor Dean's taste, not wanting to miss one tiny bit of it. However, when Sam looked up, his eyes were still filled with sadness and disbelief. Dean understood it now. The boy had gone through so many terrible things that this one tiny sliver of hope that would guide him towards happiness was too good to be true. Dean realized then that Sam needed to think things through, to let it sink in. Now, he needed time and Dean was more than happy to provide it.

"I'll leave you alone for now" he whispered. "But remember: I love you. And I'll be waiting for you, hoping that one day you can return my feelings. Just promise me that you'll think this over. Don't make me lose you…"

As Dean slowly lowered his arms from around Sam's waist and walked away, disappearing upstairs, Sam stayed in his place, the same thought racing through his mind over and over and over again:

_Don't make me lose you…_

The closing of a door echoed around the silent mansion, reverberating on the tiles and the walls. Sam stood in the entrance of the Great Ballroom, gazing in front of him into the nothingness. This… Did this happen? Right now? Could it be…? If he thought his lips were burning when Dean had touched them, then they were blazing now from the flames of sin itself after the feel of those full lips. Was it just wishful thinking or reality? After so many crashes into the real world, could this be another piece of it or was it just a part of the comfortable little world that Sam created inside the mansion?

Without realizing it, he began cleaning up the traces of the charity dinner and before knowing it, he was walking towards the servants' quarter, still wracking his brain about the Master's words. Was it really true? The Master couldn't be… He wasn't in love with him…

But as he landed on his bed, ready to take a nap during the rest of the night, one shred of doubt wormed its way into his mind:

_… or was he?_

_TBC_

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><p><strong>Sooo, did you like it? Please, Read and Review, I really want to know!<br>**

**Did I keep my promise or did I keep my promise? *smug smirk* I know it's a little angsty but it'll get better... eventually.  
><strong>

**Anyway, hope you liked it! See you at the next chapter!  
><strong>


	15. What Is Love?

**ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!  
><strong>

**ULTIMATE WARNING IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**AU, OOC, SLASH! (mostly thoughts)  
><strong>

**Hey, guys! New chapter here. This is a little deeper, but it's the last step towards the Slash we all wish for. :D  
><strong>

**Every answer to Sam's questions is my own interpretation and thoughts. I've never been in love, I just had some crushes.  
><strong>

**Alright, enjoy the new chapter!**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 15: What Is Love?<br>_

A pair of strong, muscled arms embraced him, pulling him tightly to the warm, firm chest. His hands touched soft skin, when he lifted them up to hold onto the biceps. Gentle tingle spread throughout his skin, emanating from the spot on his neck, right behind his ear. The sweet numbness was caused by the light touch of full lips, caressing him, poisoning him with the sugary ambrosia of lust. A fire ignited in his belly, as fingers joined those lips in their petting. His breaths quickened, his chest jumping erratically as he gasped for air, the unbearable flames swallowing him whole. His hand slid up the muscled back, fingers burying into short tresses, then the warmth of the other body separated slightly from his, moving away far enough for him to moan out loud in want, but staying close enough that he felt the gust of gentle breaths on his heated skin. A pair of jades glinted in the low light…

Sam startled awake, his panting the only sound in the room. His tresses had stuck to his face and forehead from sweat, just like his clothes to his body. His heart was beating a mile a second as the pictures returned into his mind with great force. He needed a few minutes to realize it was a dream… He looked around, searching for weirded out looks, but he only saw sleeping faces in the other beds.

Sam's head landed on his pillow a little harder than was necessary. He just dreamt about his Master in… _that way…_ What was wrong with him? Why would such pictures… such fantasies appear in his dreams? And why was he disappointed that the dream had ended? Why was he feeling such longing for that touch, for that feeling to be real… that fire to burn inside him, flushing his skin deep red… that beautiful pair of eyes looking down at him… watching… observing… admiring…

Sam could barely fight a moan back, biting his lower lip to stay quiet. A small prickle signed that he did it too hard. His hands by his side fisted the sheets and he took shaky breaths to calm himself down, trying to ignore the tight heat in his groin. The fact that the blanket was kicked off of the bed during his dream hadn't registered yet in his mind.

Out of the blue, last night's events slammed back into him, his thoughts circling one instance of them. The memory of those full lips on his explained his very lifelike dream, but it wasn't helping his situation at the moment. A small, barely audible whimper managed to break free and Sam finally lifted a hand to suppress the heat raging inside him.

After a few minutes, Sam's mind cleared out and the height the dream had taken him to was left behind. Sam sighed as he wiped the sweat off his face, leaving his hand on his eyes, as if it could hide him from his thoughts and feelings. He didn't know what to think. How could he be sure if the Master was serious about his feelings? How could he know for certain that Dean had told him the truth… that he loved Sam? And how could Sam know that he loved his Master back that way? He never experienced anything like that. He didn't know what it meant to be in love or be loved.

Sam felt the air stifle him slightly, so he quietly got up and left the bedroom. He walked to the supply closet and took the broom and dustpan out. He might as well do his job if he couldn't sleep.

The sun was slowly rising, a bit early for the servants to be awake. Sam swept the porch up without a hurry, his thoughts miles away from the world around him. What was he feeling for the Master? Was it a twisted sort of gratitude or just affection? How could he be certain of what all of these emotions meant? He paused in his work and closed his eyes, wanting to make sure what was going on with him. After a deep, cleansing sigh, he focused his mind on the Master… Dean… The jade-green eyes… The spiky blonde hair… The cocky smirk on those full lips…

As soon as all of these little pictures flitted into his mind as clear as day, Sam had to swallow against the small knot of nervousness in his stomach. His cheek began burning from a blush, which strengthened when he reached the image of Dean's lips… The shadow of that blazing fire licked at the inside of his belly and Sam had to grip the broom handle tightly to keep himself grounded, or he would've collapsed as his legs turned to jelly from all that stimulation.

Sam quickly opened his eyes and began taking deep breaths. Was this lust? Was this that would fill him every time he became attracted to another person? To another man? But this was only physical reaction. Wasn't love something deeper? Meaningful? Something that would follow you throughout your whole life? Wouldn't love strike into you so suddenly that it would leave you breathless? Wasn't love supposed to mean that you would do anything for the other, even kill?

Sam bit his lip, tasting some blood from the previous nip. He had read so many books about love at first sight, romantic stories with happy endings. Life wasn't working that way, though… or was love an exception? He will ask the other servants about it, he decided and with an affirming nod to himself, he returned to his duties.

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><p>The mouthwatering scent of cooking bacon filled the servants' quarter and woke the occupants. When Mark and Ramon sat up in their beds to look around and found Alex scrubbing his eyes sleepily, trying to wake up completely, they frowned in confusion. Who was cooking breakfast?<p>

The three servants walked into the kitchen curiously and stopped in surprise.

"Sam?" Alex spoke softly.

Sam looked up and over his shoulder from his place in front of the stove. He smiled at them, lips shaking from the effort to seem bright, but the purple bruises under his eyes indicated a restless night and the darkened gaze showed a troubled mind.

"Hey, you're up!" Sam exclaimed with weak cheerfulness. "I thought I'd cook something."

"It smells great" Mark, noted, sniffing the air. Sam's smile brightened up, honest happiness shining through, before he turned back to the food. As the others took their seats around the table, the kitchen was filled with the sizzling of oil, the scent of fried eggs joining the aroma of bacon wafting around the room.

After a few minutes, the plates of breakfast were placed onto the table. The others waited for Sam to join them and only then started in on the food.

"Man, this is great" Mark moaned out, taking another bite much quicker than the others.

"I didn't know you can cook" Alex said, looking at Sam questioningly.

"Yeah, your paper said you can't" Ramon added.

"I can't" Sam answered. "This is the only meal I can make. My dad cooked all the time, but sometimes he got so grouchy in the morning that I had to make his breakfast." Sam smiled as he remembered his father's praises at his son's first creation, and he had eaten the whole thing, even though Sam had burnt it because of his lack of experience. "He always asked for bacon and eggs and after a few occasions I mastered it."

"He must have been really proud of that" Alex remarked quietly, sensing the sadness overflowing the boy.

"Yeah, he was" Sam whispered, swallowing against the void that the loss of his family and home created in his heart. Taking a deep breath, he pushed these thoughts away and forced a smile onto his face, trying to reassure everyone that he was fine. The rest of breakfast passed in silence.

"Do you want to make the Master's breakfast today?" Alex asked, when he gathered the empty plates to wash up.

"I-I don't know" Sam replied hesitantly. "I don't want to ruin his meal."

"You won't" Mark assured him, as he stood up to help Alex. "I'm sure he's gonna like it." Sam nodded then and returned to the stove. His hands were shaking and his stomach tied itself into a knot, as his mind chanted over and over: _'Dean is gonna eat what I'm making…'_ He paid extra attention to his moves, not wanting to mess it up.

After long, long minutes, the bacon and eggs were neatly placed onto the plate and Alex snatched it up to take it to the Master. While the young man was away, Sam replaced him at the sink, washing the dishes with Mark. He couldn't utter out a word, he was so nervous. Would Dean like his meal? Or did Sam do something wrong? Did he put enough pepper on it? And the salt? Was it enough? Did he even put some on it? He couldn't remember…

His small panic attack was interrupted by Alex stepping into the kitchen with the empty plate, a triumphant smirk firmly set on his face.

"So?" Sam asked finally as the young man slid the plate into the sink. He blushed furiously when his trembling voice cracked on that simple syllable. Alex smirked for a few seconds, probably not realizing what torture his silence inflicted on Sam. At last, he answered with a wide grin:

"He liked it very much."

Sam had to grab onto the edge of the sink, when the biggest sigh of relief escaped him. He was sure he would've collapsed into a boneless heap.

"Although" Alex continued and Sam's heart skipped a beat "it was a bit too salty." **(1)**

Sam snatched his gaze away from the knowing look on his friend's face and blushed even more. His eyes drilled into the dirty water in the sink and he wished he could just drown himself in it.

_Stupid food,_ he thought angrily, pouting to himself. _Stupid salt… Stupid saying!_ He ignored the chuckle from his side, not letting Alex to bait him into a reaction.

"Hey, Sam! If you're done I could use your help" Ramon's voice swooped in like an angel from Heaven to rescue Sam from the deepest pit of Hell. Sam quickly dried his hands and rushed out, following Ramon up to the first floor.

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><p>As the sun reached the top of the sky, Sam was slowly scrubbing the marble steps of the front stairs. After helping Ramon to repair one of the bedroom windows, he had gathered the curtains from every room with the older man's assistance. Those were currently in the washing machine. While the machine worked, Sam had decided to clean the steps. He'd noticed some dirt on them and it had started to bother him. His moves were slower, his mind being far away from the task he was doing.<p>

"Here" Ramon's voice cut into his wandering thoughts as he was finishing the last step. Sitting back onto his heels, his eyes landed on a bottle of beer held out towards him. Swallowing nervously, he took the drink out of Ramon's hand, who sat onto the step above the one the boy was cleaning. Sam joined him, throwing the rug into the bucket of water. While Ramon took a big gulp of the beer, Sam picked at the label, feeling embarrassed.

"What?" Ramon asked. "You don't like it?" Sam blushed before replying:

"I've never drunk alcohol before…"

"Really?" Ramon asked incredulously and Sam looked away. "You smoke cigarettes but you've never had a drink? Not even a beer?" Sam shook his head timidly. "Well," Ramon spoke, shrugging his shock off, "there's always a first time."

Sam cautiously lifted the bottle to his lips and mimicked Ramon's actions from before. As he swallowed the slightly bitter liquid, he pulled a face then let out a small cough. Ramon chuckled at him.

"You're gonna get used to it" he murmured, taking another gulp. He was right: as Sam took another, slightly smaller sip of the drink, it tasted better.

"Can I ask you something?" Sam spoke after a while. Ramon, who was watching the scenery in front of them and listening to the songs of the birds, tore his eyes away from the garden and directed all of his attention to the boy, who inwardly appreciated it. "It's kind of a strange question…"

"Shoot" Ramon nodded at him with a gentle smile.

"What do you know about…" Sam trailed off hesitantly, but then carried on, knowing there was no turning back now. "What do you know about… love?"

Seeing Ramon's eyebrows slide up in surprise, Sam already opened his mouth to retract:

"It's stupid, forget it-"

"No, no" Ramon shook his head quickly, laying a hand onto Sam's shoulder to stop him. "You just surprised me. But I'm not exactly an expert in this, since I've never had any partners before." Taking another gulp of the beer, the older man gathered his thoughts, trying to phrase them carefully.

"I'm sure you've read all kinds of books, even ones with romance in them" he started and Sam nodded, paying attention. "Well, I don't think that love is working that way, at least not the fluffy, sappy kind of way." They shared a chuckle at that.

"What's your opinion then?" Sam asked quietly, hoping for an answer to his own problem, as well. "What do you think love is?"

"I think…" Ramon frowned as he considered all this, "I think when you see him or her and your heart literally skips a beat is the starting point of the slide. And the more time you spend together or the more you see them the quicker you slide."

"That's kinda sappy" Sam teased gently.

"Yeah, yeah" Ramon nudged the boy's shoulder playfully. "I'm getting old."

"Is that what you want to happen?" Sam asked, turning serious.

"I'm hoping" Ramon replied softly, and Sam felt the longing coming from the older man. Realizing that Ramon may need some time alone, Sam stood up, clapping the other's shoulder reassuringly, and he returned to the mansion, carrying the bucket with him. He finished his beer with two big gulps, grimacing slightly at the still new taste.

After hanging the laundry out in the backyard, Sam joined the others at lunch. Ramon was absent during the meal and Mark rushed through his food, hurrying out into the garden with a quick kiss to Alex's lips, who just smiled at his lover's haste. Sam recognized the opportunity to speak with Alex.

"Sam?" the boy looked up at his name, as he gathered the dirty plates from the table. Alex was standing next to him with a frown on his features.

"Is everything okay?" Sam asked worriedly, quickly putting the plates into the sink so he could listen to the young man's troubles.

"Well, not really" Alex slowly scratched at the back of his head. Sam noticed the shame rolling off of his friend. "I just wanted to apologize for last night. I was really rude to you."

"It's okay" Sam waved, feeling the hated guilt and shame bubble inside him. "You were nervous and I didn't help any-"

"But it wasn't fair to you" Alex cut in firmly. "You did nothing wrong. Accidents happen, that was no reason to bite your head off. I'm really sorry."

"It's okay" Sam said in a tone of finality. "We're good." His answer brought a relieved smile onto Alex's face and they began washing the dishes together.

"So what's on your mind lately?" the young man questioned, his worried undertone betraying the expression of calm on his face.

"I'm just… sorting things out" Sam answered then took his chance. "Everything looks good with you and Mark."

"Well" Alex shrugged with a blush and a shy smile, "everything is great with us. I'm…" pausing in his task, he turned to Sam with a thoughtful look. "I'm happy… Maybe… maybe I'm in love…"

Silence settled onto the room after that statement. Alex looked unsure, like he was in the middle of convincing himself that what he said was true. Sam watched his friend for anything that could give Alex away or probably help his own inner conflict. Traces of a somewhat smitten look greeted him as he stared intently, a look rather familiar on his own face in the mirror, when Dean is on his mind.

Suddenly Alex blushed and snatched his gaze back to the plate in his hands, drying it furiously. Sam slowly scrubbed at the next plate, thinking the image from before over. Was that how he looked like when he was swept away by the fantasies about him and his Master? Did he wear that dopey look, as well, when the others talked about Dean, or when he met him? The giddy feeling that drugged him every time Dean touched him was certainly a give-away. And after that kiss… He was so dazed he could barely remember how he got back into bed…

"What's it like?" he finally spoke. "To be in love?" Alex thought about his answer for a bit then started in on his explanation:

"Once, back in England, there was a boy in my class. I think it was in high school. He was really cool and handsome and the girls just fell for him one by one. When he occasionally spoke to me I felt nervous and I was stammering like an idiot." Sam chuckled at that, he knew that feeling, from before his father had taken him into hiding. "Basically I had a crush on him.

"Being in love" Alex continued, "means so much more than that. You still have the stammering, the big sighs of hopeless romantics and so on. But instead of just falling for a shell, an outside view, you have the opportunity to see behind that. You adore the personality, the reactions you get by your actions. You have the chance for a peek of the raw person, the core of that person's being… and you want to have another peek at it… you want to care for it…" Alex's voice began trembling slightly. "And the more you get to see it, the more you adore it until suddenly you can't live without those moments… For me, that means love…"

Sam swallowed against the lump in his throat. If that meant falling in love, then Alex was so far down the pit, no one can even see him. The care he showed towards Mark while the younger man was struggling to keep his grip firm on reality… that couldn't be manufactured. And, as Sam thought some more about it, he felt the same longing to see that raw side of Dean when the Master was crying. Even the memory filled him with so much want to hold him during those breakdowns, to help him when he was troubled, to soothe him when he was angry, to love him when in need…

There it was again. Love… Sam felt the recognition grow in him. Had he fallen in love with his Master? The moment he saw him on their first meeting there was a stir inside him. It wasn't like in the books, his heart skipping a bit, his breath taken away… No, none of that. But that one little stir in his gut, in his mind was enough of a start on the slide that took him deeper and deeper into the pit of love.

But how could he know that his feelings are reciprocated? If he considered what Alex told him just now, the Master was attracted to him. He kissed him last night, without any mockery or guilt or hate… He bared his soul to him… And before that, he had taken more care of Sam than any of the other slaves, when Sam had been sick or scared. Even when Sam had been punished because of smoking, he had noticed the fear in Dean's eyes – well, when he had the guts to glance into them – that he would lose Sam like he had lost his uncle.

"How do you know he loves you?" he asked Alex, wanting to get a certain aspect.

"Well" Alex put the last plate away, before taking the fork Sam was holding out for him, "every time I look into his eyes, I see the same kind of flame I feel inside me when I think of him or when he touches me or just looks at me. Every one of his touches speak the same language my body is using when I'm with him. I always feel like I'm treasured, that I'm the only one, whom he would ever be like this to. And, of course, he trusts me. He lets me in… With Mark, that speaks more of love than anything else."

Dean let Sam in on his feelings. He risked losing the person he loves for only a hope that Sam would return his feelings. Dean trusted Sam with this…

"Thanks" Sam breathed. Alex smiled at him tenderly and they finished up in silence.

* * *

><p>Sam slowly walked out onto the backyard, needing some fresh air after the deep conversation he had with Alex. He felt like his soul was rubbed raw by the conflicting emotions inside him. The war between his heart and his mind was wrecking havoc relentlessly. He felt a strange burning under his skin, as if his inner self wanted to rip through the outer shell, the façade.<p>

Sam reached a bigger tree and sat down, enjoying the slight breeze that ruffled the leaves above him, plucking some of them off and blowing it away. He closed his eyes and willed himself to calm down, to cool off. He tried to get some peace, but something, _something_ was nagging at him and he couldn't see what it was and couldn't scratch at it to get some temporary relief. He was clueless of what to do with that feeling…

As he was wallowing in his misery, the presence of someone next to him, watching him, raised the hairs on his arms.

"Hey, you okay?" Mark asked. Sam looked up just as the young man took a seat next to him, keeping his gaze on Sam in case something happens, something snaps…

"I don't know" Sam replied truthfully.

"Anything I can help with?" Mark offered, scooting slightly closer, worry filling his eyes. Sam sighed then asked away:

"How do you know you love Alex?"

Mark seemed slightly taken aback at the question then – to Sam's fear – understanding flitted across his face.

"I can trust him with anything" he spoke. "When I'm with him, I feel like I'm normal, like I'm the happiest guy on Earth… I feel like I'm floating in the air just from a whiff of his scent or a glimpse of his beautiful eyes… And when we kiss… Woah!" Mark shook his head slightly, eyes staring into the sky but not seeing anything. Sam thought about this, as well. He didn't have the chance to experience that, although… that kiss _was_ something, he had to admit that…

"And how do you know he loves you?" Sam asked. The dopey grin dimmed a little as Mark returned to the ground.

"He takes such a good care of me" Mark replied softly. "He lets me lean onto him and lets himself unwound by my side. I just… I don't know… I'm 100 percent sure that he loves me. And I love him."

Sam remembered last night at that. He had been in the servants' quarter's, behind the entrance door, looking through the arriving guests. When his father hadn't shown up, the only firm wall he could lean against with enough faith that would hold him up was Dean – and he did. He felt cherished and treasured under Dean's scrutiny and mother-henning. The man's hands were like banisters between him and the ocean of despair. It was like Sam belonged into those arms, as if his body fit perfectly like a piece of puzzle to the growing picture.

"Do you love him?" Mark asked out of the blue. Sam snapped his gaze at him in fear.

"W-Who?" he stuttered out, but he only received a knowing smile. He swallowed nervously, not liking how those eyes could read him. "I don't know…"

"Yes, you do" Mark replied softly. "You just need to see it. And the fact that he loves you, too." With that Mark pulled Sam into a brief hug and left to continue his work on the garden. Sam felt the air stifle him, which was strange considering he was outside. He gasped against it then jumped to his feet, gathering the laundry and rushing inside with them. He forced himself not to think about this for a while. Just for a little while…

* * *

><p>The nights had never ever been this long and torturous like this one. Even when Sam had been captured and had spent his first evening in a cage, or when he'd slept in his bed the first night in the mansion – they'd never been this bad. Sam had already turned to every possible position he could lie in, his cover on the ground in a rumpled heap. He felt exhausted, but everything was so hot around him. Even the clothes bothered him, even the silence got on his nerves. The darkness was slowly pushing his limits because it was like some projecting screen for an unlimited reel of his thoughts.<p>

He was so confused now. His fantasies jumbled up with the other servants' answers on what love is, as he pictured those scenes. His real experiences didn't help, either. He gripped at his hair desperately. Why does all this have to happen to _him?_ Why couldn't he have a simple life like all the others? Finding a nice girl or guy, living in a house with white picket fence, having kids, a dog or maybe a cat… Anything that even resembles normal! Instead, he was stuck in the longest drama he had ever encountered, with him in the middle of it.

With a soft growl, he rolled out of his bed and left the bedroom. Before he knew it, he was at the sink with a glass of cold water in his hand. He took a small sip of it, just enjoying the cool liquid washing down his throat. He felt his clothes stick onto his damp skin, sweaty from all the moving around he did. He looked at the clock on the kitchen wall: it was 1:34. He sighed, feeling himself slowly going crazy. His throat tightened against a frustrated sob that tried to escape him. Why? Why? _WHY?_

All of a sudden he slammed the glass down onto the counter, not even noticing the drops of water landing onto the surface. With a deep breath, he marched out of the kitchen, only one thought running through his mind:

_To hell with it…_

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><p>Dean watched the moonlight shining through his bedroom window. The shadows it created were dancing slightly as the curtain and the tree branches moved in the breeze. He was sitting on his sofa for God knows how many hours now, the previous night the only thing in his mind. He couldn't forget the broken look in Sam's eyes when Dean had confessed. He couldn't leave the memory of Sam's soft lips behind. His skin was crawling with want, the want to see that beautiful shade of green eyes, to hold the lean body close, to embrace the slim waist… to taste those lips again…<p>

Dean combed his fingers through his hair in frustration. Why couldn't things get simpler? Why did they have to thicken instead? He was such an idiot to fall in love with someone he couldn't have, but he would be damned to let it go now. Just… _why_ couldn't Sam _see that?_ Why couldn't Sam understand that Dean was, is serious about this? The boy was too precious to him, ever since he had stepped through the door of the dining room on the first day. The moment his eyes had taken him in completely, he was doomed.

But it had happened before that… On the day Sam had been bought from the institution. When Dean had seen him stretched out on the backseat with only a pair of sweatpants on… His torso lean and showing some ribs despite the good treatment… Dean had just wanted to cradle him in his arms and never let him go. To care for him, to love him… When he had seen the straps digging into the pale skin of the wrists, Dean had pulled over and cut it off himself with his knife. He still remembered the anger that had boiled inside him at the sight of the reddened, bloody skin. While he had treated them, Sam had been sleeping like a baby, but still trembling, possibly because of his wrecked nerves.

Dean stood up, lowering his hands. He's been lost to the world since that moment, only tumbling through the fog of love that surrounded him. He had noticed the small similarities between him and Sam and Alex and Mark. The other two was so far deep in love that it was too obvious for everyone except for them. He realized Sam had been acting around him like Alex most of the time, but on a few occasions he was just like Mark, especially on the evening of the charity dinner. The boy had leaned onto Dean, when he broke down so many times, like Mark leaned onto Alex when he had one of his episodes. Dean was also similar to Mark when Sam was close to him, but he kept up his strong façade like Alex when it was necessary.

So many similarities… So many signs… _And Sam was still unsure!_ And that drove Dean _mad!_ If something doesn't happen in the next couple of days, he will take matters into his own hands. It can't go on like this.

A soft, uncertain knock came from the back door of his bedroom. The clock showed 1:35. Who would want to see him at this hour? From the _back hallway?_ He slowly approached the door and hesitated, unsure of what to expect on the other side. His indecision was cut short by another, slightly stronger knock. Dean finally stepped closer and opened the door. What greeted him was certainly not someone he would've thought would be.

"Master" Sam whispered, eyes downcast and hands wringing each other.

_TBC_

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><p><strong>(1) There's a saying in Hungary that if a girl overuses the salt in her cooking, she's very much in love. I don't know if it's known in other countries.<strong>

**So, how was it? Was it good? Or at least edible? Personally I like it... *mumbles to herself uncertainly*  
><strong>

**Anyway, please Read and Review! It would make my day. :D  
><strong>

**Oh, before I forget, would you like me to write Alex/Mark scenes without Sam or Dean (or both) in them? (I mostly mean one PARTICULAR scene *winkwinknudgenudge* ;)) Or should I stick with the Sam/Dean storyline? That applies to Ramon/Newbie scenes (hope you hadn't forget him yet).  
><strong>

**Alright, see you at the next chapter!  
><strong>


	16. Blooming Love

**ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!  
><strong>

**ULTIMATE WARNING IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**AU, OOC, SLASH (the fluffy kind).  
><strong>

**Hey, guys! I'm sorry for being so late. I had an exam that just drained me. But now I'm back with the longest chapter I've ever written: 15 pages!  
><strong>

**Missy and Sadie conspired against me. They just can't leave poor Sammy alone... Hope you don't mind it! Those two are worse than plot bunnies (or so I've heard :D).  
><strong>

**I'm over 100 reviews! *happy dance* Thank you guys SOOO much for the wonderful feedbacks and the encouraging words. This story brought me the best reviews I've received during my FFnet career. I'm doing everything I can to do a good job with this story and you give me that boost of confidence that gets me writing. Thank you 1000 times more! You're all so awesome.  
><strong>

**Alright, enjoy the new chapter!**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 16: Blooming Love<br>_

Silence settled onto the room, even drowning out the crickets, the wind and the rustle of leaves outside. It was so thick and heavy that only a butcher's knife could've cut it through. Neither Dean, nor Sam moved from their places, one shocked to the core, the other too scared to do anything, even breathe. Long, long seconds rolled past them leisurely, when a sudden shudder of Sam's body broke the tension. The dampness of the boy's clothes cooled down, chilling Sam's skin.

Dean seemed to have snapped out of his stupor at that and blinked for the first time since opening the door. He stepped back and to the side, wordlessly permitting Sam to enter. The boy remained in his place for a few moments, unsure if coming here was a good idea, but then taking a deep breath he stepped over the threshold, walking far enough so Dean could close the door. The resounding click brought a small flinch out of the boy, who was using sheer will to keep his panic at bay.

He heard Dean walk up to and stop behind him. Every cell of his skin tingled, very obvious of the other's presence and sweet, _sweet warmth…_ Sam had to take a deep breath again to keep himself together. That unique scent of cologne was wafting through the air and around them. Sam began trembling as he breathed it in again and again and again…

"I…" Dean's deep tone cut through the forming of Sam's wild thoughts. The boy forced himself to return to reality. "I didn't think I'd see you… so soon…"

"Neither did I…" Sam whispered barely audibly, knowing his words would be heard anyway. "I just needed to think…"

"It's-it's okay, it's fine, I'm…" Dean's voice was so shaky and vulnerable that Sam just wanted to hold the man tightly and never let him go. "I'm happy you're here…"

Sam finally gathered enough courage to turn around, but he kept his head lowered, not daring to look into the eyes of his Master… Sam flinched again. What was he thinking? He was just a low-class, unimportant servant. A slave. And this… All of this must be the trick of fate. He was so terrified that if he gave himself over to this… _dream…_ it will be ripped away from him.

"Sam ?" As those calloused fingers slid onto his cheek, he felt something crack inside him. How could this be just a dream? The scent of that cologne, the warmth of the other's body in front of him, the feel of the rough skin…

"Master…" Sam pleaded, his voice barely above an exhale. "Please…"

"Just tell me what's bothering you" Dean murmured softly. "Let me help…"

"I-I don't know… what it is that I feel…"

"Tell me what you feel…" Sam bit his lower lip uncertainly at the request. With a little reluctance, he stepped away from the man, wanting to lessen the temptation to throw himself into Dean's arms.

"I asked the others and…" Sam started awkwardly, his hands returned to the nervous wringing. "They said a few things I can relate to… But…"

"What did you ask them about?" Dean spoke, watching the boy carefully. Sam felt his face heat up, knowing what he did was pretty stupid.

"Love…" he breathed, waiting for the laughter and the mockery. However, the only thing that welcomed his answer was silence, indicating that Dean was listening, waiting for him to elaborate. "I asked them" he continued, "how did they know they loved someone and… and if it's returned…"

"And they said some stuff you recognized from yourself" Dean finished Sam's explanation. Sam nodded slowly not sure what to expect. "So?"

The question came so out of the blue that Sam couldn't grasp it quickly enough to answer.

"S-So what?"

"What's bothering you still?" Dean asked, his voice rising from frustration. "I just don't get it… Everyone sees it, even I can see it, which says something since I'm the dumbest being on the planet in this stuff. Only you can't see it."

"It's not like that…" Sam started but Dean cut him off.

"Then what the hell is it? 'Cause I've had it up to here with this" Dean exclaimed lifting a hand above his head to show the level of his exasperation.

"I'm scared, alright?" Sam blurted out and then words followed his confession, flowing out of his mouth. "I'm scared that this isn't real, that if I let it suck me in, it will crumble down to dust, that it will be taken away and I'm left alone and cold and destroyed and…"

"Shhh…" Sam didn't even notice Dean walking up to him until the man wrapped an arm around him to hold him together. The other hand wiped at Sam's cheeks and Sam realized that he began crying during his tirade. "I'm sorry…" Dean breathed. "I should've known… Everything happened so fast to you, no wonder you developed such insecurities."

"I want this so much it hurts…" Sam whimpered between hiccups.

"You just need to accept your feelings" Dean replied. "If you do, I'm gonna do everything I can to keep this together. I'm not gonna let anyone take it away from you, because you deserve it."

"I don't know if it's love…" Sam whispered.

"Then we let it grow into it" Dean slid his hand onto Sam's cheek and pulled the boy's head down so that his forehead could rest against Sam's. The boy's hands slipped onto Dean's chest, fisting the T-shirt.

"Master…"

The word trembled as it left Sam's lips.

"Dean…"

Dean's answer was a whisper, as the man leaned closer and closer inch by inch.

"Sir…"

"Dean…"

Their noses slid next to each other, nostrils touching as they flared…

"Dean…"

_"Yes…"_

Their lips molded into one, the air breaking out of their lungs with a huge sigh of relief. It felt as if the withdrawals of an addiction had evaporated in that moment. Sam felt his limbs relaxing, letting his body lean into the strong arms holding him up. A hand slipped in between his growing locks, fingers entwining with the chestnut-brown hairs. A soft touch on his lips begged for an invitation, which he happily gave. As their tongues tenderly caressed each other, Sam's hands wandered up around Dean's neck, pulling the man closer with that move.

"Dean…" Sam whimpered when they slowly separated their lips, not willing to part with the other completely.

"Yes…" Dean answered, overjoyed by the fact that Sam called him by his name willingly.

"Don't make me lose you…"

Dean felt a teardrop glide down his cheek when he heard his own words in that broken tone. He tightened his hold around Sam almost to breaking point, not wanting to risk the same thing.

"Stay…" he whispered, and finally Sam looked up and into his eyes.

"But the others…"

"It's alright" Dean reassured him quickly. "Just until sunrise. You can sneak back then… I can't let you go now…"

After a few silent moments, Sam gathered his legs under himself more firmly and straightened up. With a nod he walked to Dean's bed and sat onto the edge. Dean followed his lead on the other side. As soon as Sam lay down onto his side, arms embraced him and pulled him impossibly close to the body next to him, back to chest. It was like on that afternoon in the servants' quarter… As if Sam was created just to fit into that embrace… With a sigh he gripped the forearms tightly and pushed his head into the pillow under him, giving space for Dean's head. He didn't have to wait long: that wonderfully gentle weight on his skull and shoulder settled into place like it always belonged there. Dean's sigh brushed at Sam's cheek, the scent of menthol filling Sam's nose.

"Wish I could stay here till I die…" Sam breathed. The press of lips on his jaw was the only answer, but Sam knew it meant that Dean felt the same way. They remained in a serene silence for a couple minutes, before one question stood out in Sam's mind, shoving his other thoughts into the background.

"Why…?"

His small voice stiffened Dean's body behind him, before the man pulled away far enough so he could turn Sam onto his back. The boy looked into concerned but confused green eyes with his wide, frightened hazel ones.

"Why what?" Dean asked softly, trying to keep the boy calm.

"Why me?" Sam asked, his voice stronger. "Why would you choose me? Why would you love me…?"

"You're really gonna make me do this, aren't ya?" Dean murmured with a huff of breath, his smile gentle and knowing. Sam caressed the man's cheek with his fingertips, trembling from the feel of stubble on the skin.

"I just wanna believe you" Sam replied, looking deeply into Dean's eyes, wanting an answer.

"Alright then" Dean nodded, determination slipping into his features. He turned Sam towards him, so the boy was on his side then lay down next to him, his head next to Sam's, looking into each other's eyes to witness every emotion passing through them.

"First of all" Dean started, nervous about another big, girly speech. He wasn't used to this. "You are beautiful." Sam blushed at the praise and nuzzled the pillow with a shy smile, hoping to hide it from Dean. However, the man cupped his cheek tenderly and redirected the boy's gaze back to him. "When I first saw you in the car, sleeping, I couldn't believe my eyes. How could I get so lucky to find you, to have you in my house, to have you close to me? Even Ramon said that you're one of a kind" Sam's eyes widened at that in surprise and slight disbelief. He could never imagine something like that from Ramon.

"Then came your introduction" Dean continued. "I remember I almost choked on my food, when you stepped in." Dean laughed a bit embarrassed and Sam couldn't help but join. "You were tall, slim, like a supermodel on the catwalk…" Dean caressed the boy's burning cheek lovingly. "Then I heard your voice…" Dean trailed off, his gaze softening and looking far into the past.

"On that afternoon" Dean went on as he returned from his memories, "when I saw you playing on the piano… The grace in your movements… The passion in your body burning in huge flames… I just knew I wanted to be with you, to know the buttons that trigger that reaction from you… That passion to sweep me up and take me with you…"

Sam smiled at Dean's words. For a guy, who's clearly uncomfortable with sharing and caring, the man talked an awful lot. That showed Sam how much Dean cared about him, how much he trusted him…

"When I finally had a moment with you" Dean continued, looking deep into Sam's eyes now, "I caught a glimpse of the most expressive, most beautiful shade of green eyes I've ever seen." One of Dean's fingers caressed the skin under Sam's eye, mesmerized by the boy's gaze, greener than usual in the semi-darkness, where only the moon provided with some light. "My heart soared every time I had a chance to look into them, and felt betrayed all the time when you wouldn't look at me, craving for the sight of them to greet me every day…

"Second of all" Sam laughed. He felt like crying from joy, touched by Dean's words, and the man just explained one reason why he loved Sam. Dean must have realized that, because he chuckled, blushing as his speech registered in his brain. "Second of all" Dean tried again, "you complement me. You're innocent, making me feel strong and able to protect you, to take care of you. When I heard your voice the first time…" Sam got anxious. Dean hadn't finished that thought before. "It was so soft and timid, I just wanted to gather you in my arms and hold you through the first trials, to protect you from the pain and misery of your loss, to soothe your fears… When you were sick or hurting, I felt responsible; you pleading for help stabbed me in the heart, but also gave me strength to pull you through…

"However" Dean emphasized that word when Sam seemed to shrink in on himself, ashamed by how weak he'd been on the first few days, "when your confidence returned, your own strength shined through the innocence and blew me away… It gave me a chance to take a break, to let the control into someone else's hands… Especially when I needed it…" His words were cut off when, out of the blue, Sam leaned forward and kissed Dean firmly and lovingly. As he pulled away, Sam wordlessly promised to help Dean in those times, to take the control in a heartbeat when Dean felt overwhelmed. His eyes spoke for himself, stealing Dean's breath away. They glinted in that huge amount of strength and determination the man was just talking about. Dean gave Sam a grateful kiss back, trusting the boy to keep his promise.

"And finally" Dean started in a slightly trembling voice, "you have a wonderful personality. You're sweet, kind, polite, intelligent… charming… A little pig-headed and temperamental" he added with a smile. Sam lowered his head self-consciously, but a hand lifted it back up. "Hey" Dean whispered, his face close. "I can live with that…"

"So" Dean spoke, finishing his speech, "you asked why I would love you. My answer is…" he pulled Sam into his arms until the boy was flush against his side, his head resting on Dean's chest. The man directed Sam's gaze to his own, noticing the anticipation in them. Without hesitation, he gave his answer:

"You're perfect."

The room was lit up by Sam's wide smile, it was so bright. Dean pulled him into a soft kiss, sighing when Sam wrapped one of his arms around his neck, the other sliding around Dean's torso. After they pulled away, Sam nestled himself into Dean's side to get more comfortable. His head was pillowed by Dean's shoulder, and the duvet was draped over both of them. He fell asleep surrounded by warmth and with a smile on his face.

* * *

><p>A beautiful melody of a bird floated into the room through the slightly ajar window of the bedroom the next morning. Reaching the bed, it swam into the ears of one of its occupants, pulling him from a deep slumber into wakefulness.<p>

Sam breathed in deeply as he shifted slowly in his place. He'd never slept this good in his entire life. His only wish was just to sink back into it, so he could finally sleep all of his exhaustion off. However, as he moved, something tightened slightly around his waist. Frowning in confusion, he tried to open his eyes, when suddenly, he froze. This wasn't his bed… It was much warmer and softer…

Finally looking up through a bleary gaze, he realized that he wasn't in his room. He wasn't in the servant's quarter, either… At that recognition, everything that happened the previous night slammed back into his mind. He was in De- the Mas- _De-_… Sam sighed in exasperation. His brain was hurting just from that inward argument. _'Let's try that again'_ he thought.

He was in _Dean's_ bedroom… With a shock that passed through him like electricity, he realized: he was in _Dean's bed!_ He was… _'Oh, dear Lord…'_ he swallowed as the weight of a hold around his waist registered in his mind. He was in _Dean's bed with Dean!_

They were lying in the position they started with: Sam curled up on his side, Dean wrapped around him protectively from behind, holding him tightly, but his head was now against Sam's back. Sam considered carefully looking back at the man and trying to escape, but as he began shifting, stretching his legs out, Dean moved closer and nuzzled Sam's spine and shoulder-blade. One leg even wrapped lazily around both of Sam's. The boy felt a strange kind of warmth spread through his gut at the protectiveness, a smile pulling at his lips despite the situation.

Slowly lifting his head up, he looked around the room. The furniture was bathing in a beautiful shade of orange and on the horizon a small slice of the rising sun was visible. Sam let his head fall back with a sigh and a pout. He should get back to his bed downstairs before anyone notices his absence. _'But it's so warm here'_ he whined to his common sense, but he knew it was right. He was deep in thought, trying to figure out how to get out of bed without waking Dean, when the man in question shifted again against him. What Sam felt at that moment left him breathless, wide-eyed and blushing.

_'Great'_ he thought in embarrassed irritation. _'Can't you control your urges just this once?'_ He cursed Dean in his head – not seriously, of course – okay, maybe a little – as he felt something hard poke him in his lower back… Something unmistakably hard… He was willing his blush away, when Dean suddenly inhaled deeply, just like Sam a few minutes ago, indicating that the man was waking up.

With an idea completely out of the blue, Sam closed his eyes and relaxed his body, pretending to be asleep, wanting to spare Dean the embarrassment. However, he had a really hard time keeping the pretense up, when Dean kissed the back of his neck that tenderly. He let himself sigh dreamily and shift closer, and felt Dean's smile against his skin. The man rose up to an elbow, so he could look at him. The warmth of the gaze was like the rays of the summer sun, raining down on Sam, helping him relax even more.

"Oh, crap" Dean breathed, leaning his forehead against Sam's shoulder. Sam bit back a snicker as he realized what happened: Dean's mind registered his condition. With another kiss, this time on Sam's cheek, Dean slid out of the bed slowly. Sam immediately missed the warmth behind him, trembling from the slightly cooler air against his back and through the shirt. Dean, though, tucked the blanket back around Sam, before walking away. The faint steps led to the other end of the room and Sam knew Dean was heading towards the bathroom, probably to take care of his… _problem…_

Sam decided to wait for him, but he slowly sank back to sleep, the warmth pulling him in and the running water in the background lulling him back into darkness, no matter how willing he was.

* * *

><p>Dean stepped out of the bathroom cautiously. He spent the last twenty minutes or so under a cold stream of water and in a very, <em>very<em> good mood. He felt happy, happier than ever before and the only reason of that was sleeping in his bed like a baby.

As soon as he reached the side of the bed and sat down gingerly, he felt ashamed. Sam looked so peaceful, so young and innocent in the light of dawn that his morning condition seemed like a sexual harassment, despite Sam sleeping it through – luckily. The boy was still lying on his side, legs stretched out, hands next to each other in front of the serene face. Dean watched the fluttering eyelashes and listened to the soft and steady rush of air as Sam breathed. He was so stunning in this serene picture that it left Dean amazed. He had seen his fair share of beauty before, most of them women, but none of them could possibly equal the sight in front of him in that very moment.

Dean carefully reached out and caressed the slightly flushed cheek with the back of one finger. The skin was a little warm as if Sam had blushed at some point and it was just vanishing. He smiled at that. What could Sam have seen in his dreams that would've caused him to blush? He didn't try to guess. Who knew what was going on behind that innocent, boyish look?

His hand wandered up to the chestnut-brown tresses, slowly combing through them. They were getting longer each day, curling slightly on the way. Dean was a bit curious what Sam would look like with longer hair and bangs. He hoped to find that out someday.

As he continued stroking through the tresses, Sam began moving then slowly opened his eyes. As that striking hazel-green gaze fell onto Dean next to him, the sleepy expression melted into the usual deer-in-the-headlights look that Dean started to hate and adore at the same time.

"Morning, Sam" Dean whispered with a smile.

"M-Morning, Master…" Sam answered barely audibly, before jumping a little. "I-I mean D-Dean…"

"Shh, it's okay" Dean cut him off, caressing the tresses again soothingly. "But you can call me Dean when it's just the two of us. Or the other servants, if you want."

"No, at least not yet" Sam replied timidly, lowering his eyes. "I'm sorry if-"

"Eleven."

Dean's sudden interruption stole the words from Sam's mouth and the boy looked up at his Mas- _Dean_ startled.

"Wh-What?"

"That must be the eleventh time you apologized" Dean said matter-of-factly with a shrug. "Or maybe more. I'm just guessing."

"I'm s-"

"Twelve."

Sam couldn't help a soft laugh escape him at that.

"Fine, I can take a hint" he muttered with something in his voice that resembled a pout. Dean guided Sam's once again lowered head upwards then leaned down and pressed a soft kiss onto the thin lips. Sam hesitantly answered, still not knowing how far he can go. Dean pulled back after a few seconds with a tender smile on his face. Sam blushed a spectacular shade of red, but returned it with his own shy one.

"Mornin', Sam" Dean repeated in a whisper.

"Morning, Dean" Sam replied almost instinctively, which was strange since this was the first time he said it this readily.

"That's better" Dean murmured before sighing. "It's sunrise."

"Yeah" Sam answered, pushing himself up against the headboard. "I should go, before the others wake up."

"Yeah, you should" Dean agreed, but neither of them moved. After a couple minutes of silence, Sam scooted forward, hoping Dean would understand what he wanted. It seemed he did: the man's arms opened up and the boy was pulled into a tight embrace and a tender, slightly desperate kiss. Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's neck, melting into the hard chest. They pulled away shortly, Sam laying his head onto Dean's shoulder. Dean rocked the both of them, stroking Sam's back lazily. Both of them inhaled the other's scent like they never had enough of it… Like they would never meet again anytime soon…

As the slice of the sun grew a little, Sam pulled away, caressing Dean's stubbled cheek lovingly. They looked into each others' eyes longingly, before Sam looked away reluctantly and got out of the bed. He walked to the door of the back hallway silently, every cell of his skin screaming in protest against leaving. As he turned around for one last glance of farewell, he startled at the sight of Dean right behind him. The man pulled him in again, holding him tightly, pressing a kiss onto Sam's lips.

"Will you come back?" he asked. Sam kissed him back firmly before answering:

"Yes."

"Tonight?"

"Yes…" Sam breathed out as their lips molded into one once more, leaving him breathless when they separated. Sam combed through Dean's short, blonde tresses, gripping it for a second. Their foreheads were still leant against each other, not ready to cut that link off, and they breathed the other in.

Finally Sam pulled back with a smile and opened the door. With one last kiss, he left the room and walked downstairs, feeling Dean's gaze on his back, until he disappeared. The door above shut with barely any sound.

Sam crept out onto the hallway, listening to any sign of the others awake. Reaching the bedroom door, he found it still open, when he marched out of there last night. Carefully sneaking back in, he noticed everyone sleeping soundly. With as much stealth as a cat on a hunt, he lay back into his own bed, which was colder than before, and let himself doze off into a light sleep.

* * *

><p>The morning went on in the usual way. Ramon woke everybody up, and Sam proceeded with his early duties before breakfast. It seemed like no one noticed anything about Sam's activities at night. He breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't want to be caught off guard. He was so excited, though, that he just wanted to blurt it out to the world, but until he was certain about this, he couldn't share any of it to anyone.<p>

As he walked back towards the kitchen with the tablecloth from the Dining Room to put it into the laundry basket, he heard a sliver of a conversation in front of him. He couldn't help but stop to listen in.

"So, what do you think? Will you help me?" It was the Mistress. Who could she be talking to?

"No, miss. I'm sorry" Alex. Well, that answered the question. But what could they be talking about?

"Why? Don't you want them to be happy?"

"No, miss, you misunderstand me" Alex replied politely. "I'm not going to help, because I don't think it's necessary."

"What do you mean?" Dean's mother asked. Sam surprised himself that he could think Dean's name without any inner argument. "Do you know something I don't?"

"I'm just suspicious. But it's enough for me to know that they don't need any help. They can do it on their own."

"I sure hope so." Mary sighed. "Alright, I won't do anything. But thanks anyway."

"I'm sorry I couldn't help, miss."

Sam waited for the Mistress to leave before he returned to his way to the bathroom. Who could they have been talking about? Could that have anything to do with him? And Dean? He hoped not. He didn't need any additional, if not intentional, pressure on his mind concerning this subject.

The day passed slowly from then on. Too slowly, if you asked Sam. He was bouncing with energy and excitement and nervousness, waiting for the night to arrive. He ran into Dean once or twice during the day, but the man just smiled at him, only his jade-green eyes showing the excitement that Sam felt.

At last, darkness landed smoothly onto the mansion, sending the servants to their sleep. Sam didn't have to wait long for everyone to fall asleep. Without any sound, he got out of bed and snuck to the door. Opening it cautiously, not wanting a creak to awaken the servants, he slid through the gap and closed the door soundlessly. In a matter of seconds, he was at the bedroom door on the upstairs back hallway, contemplating knocking.

Before he could reach a decision, the door opened up and Sam was pulled into a strong embrace and breathtaking kiss. They enjoyed the long-awaited contact – _'It was one day'_ he thought vaguely, _'can I be anymore desperate?'_ – for several minutes, barely letting up enough to gasp in some needed air.

"I missed you" Dean whispered into Sam's ear after the heat of the greeting ebbed away. They were lying in bed, holding each other tightly.

"I missed you, too" Sam replied, pressing a kiss to Dean's chest where his head was resting then blushing at his own boldness. He looked up at Dean's chuckle and the man pressed a kiss onto each of his flaming cheek.

"You're adorable when you blush" Dean murmured with a loving smile. The answering huff from Sam didn't help his attempts of holding back his laugh.

"And you're sweet when you give big, girly speeches to me" Sam replied back, his voice still a little hesitant.

"You want me to write a poem?" Dean teased back. "_'O Samuel, how do I love thee?'_"

"Shut up" Sam laughed, hitting Dean's chest playfully. He lifted his head up and gave a kiss onto Dean's full lips. "I…" he started as he pulled away, gazing into those loving green eyes. "I…" _'love you, come on, just say it, you know it's true'_ "I missed you."

Dean seemed to have deflated, although Sam couldn't decide if it was from disappointment or maybe relief.

"Me, too" he answered, pulling the boy down onto his chest, stroking his shoulders. The rest of the night went in silence, the two just enjoying each others' company, until they fell asleep.

When Sam returned to the servants' bedroom the next morning, he was shocked to find the door open.

* * *

><p>The next week passed in the same manner. Sam would do his duties during the day then after the others fell asleep at night, he would sneak upstairs to be with Dean and the following morning he would slip back into his own bed like nothing happened. Every time an open bedroom door was waiting for him.<p>

He enjoyed this little secrecy, it made him anticipate their meetings even more and turned the kisses and touches much sweeter and more pleasant. However, he knew this couldn't go on for long. Someday they would have to come out to everyone, but Sam was still afraid that if they do he would lose Dean. He loved him more and more, he was now certain of that, but he still couldn't say it out loud. Still, how he wanted to shout it out to the world…

Most of the time they just lay together, enjoying the other's warmth, sharing small kisses, but sometimes they would chat idly about something, getting to know each other that way. Sam found out that Dean was a ladies' man back in his younger years, but after a while he got bored of that lifestyle, wishing for an honest, long-term relationship. However, he buried himself into the work of the Winchesters' company instead. It turned out that he was the head of a company that was specialized in carpentry. Even Dean himself made a couple of wooden furniture for a client.

Dean's other hobby was working on cars, repairing them and tuning up older models. He had inherited a smaller auto shop from his father and the Chevrolet Impala Sam'd had the honor of sitting – and sleeping – in. It turned out John himself had tuned the old car up after saving it from a salvage yard and Dean himself was keeping it top shape. In Dean's words: _'She's gliding on the road like a queen and purring like a gentle cat on a sunny afternoon.'_ Sam teased him that if Dean writes a poem to the car, Sam will leave him. Dean just shook his head as if Sam could never understand such beauty, but his hold tightened for a moment.

In exchange Sam told Dean about his interest. He loved books, especially the ones with mystery and romance, sometimes both. Dean mocked him that Sam was a girl, but the boy gently reminded him that he was part girl. Dean blushed and kissed him apologetically, breathing the words _'You're special. And that's why I love you.'_ onto Sam's lips, which made the boy fall for him even harder. Their conversation ended with Dean promising Sam to show him the auto shop someday and make him realize that there _was_ some beauty in old car models. Sam doubted that but went with it.

One night their words led to family. Dean decided to tell Sam about the sugar-incident Mary had mentioned at that ominous breakfast. Sam laughed into Dean's shoulder, trying to muffle the hearty chortles. Even Dean joined him, although he was laughing because Sam was. Sam then told Dean about one of his own happy childhood memories, which in return reminded Dean of another one. They each shared stories, one after the other, laughing until tears rolled down their cheeks, although they were attentive not to rouse anyone with their voices.

Finally, they began calming down as they ran out of little stories. Gasping for air, Sam was leaning against the headboard, head resting on Dean's shoulder, while Dean was sitting next to him, head on Sam's, a nostalgic smile on his face.

"I've never laughed this much since Dad's…" Dean spoke softly. Sam lifted his head up to look at him and noticed the grief etched into the jade-green eyes. "He always played with me when I was smaller and always cheered me up when I was sad." Dean continued, his gaze lost in the memories. "Every weekend we went somewhere, the three of us, even if it was just the nearest park and he never sat down just to watch me, he always came to join me…"

"What happened?" Sam asked, laying his hand onto Dean's and grasping it, caressing the back with his thumb.

"He was always working" Dean answered, lowering his eyes onto their joined hands. "Long hours, sometimes he was gone in the morning and only came home the next day. Then came the stroke…" Dean's voice trembled fleetingly at the last word. A short pause cut into the confession as Dean got himself together. "He died in his sleep…"

"It's okay" Sam whispered, wrapping his free arm around Dean's shoulders. He leant his forehead against Dean's temple and began slowly rocking him. "It's okay… I know how hard it is to lose a parent…" They stayed silent for a few minutes before Dean pulled away and turned to Sam.

"Can I ask you something?" Sam nodded, relieved that the man was alright for now. "How did you become a… slave?" The boy cringed at the word, but Dean gripped his hand tightly. "I just want to know what your life was like before you were captured" Dean added quickly, his tone full of apology.

"My family was living in South Dakota" Sam started quietly. "We lived in Sioux Falls in a mansion like this. My life was perfect… Then everything changed…" Sam swallowed at the old pain flaring up inside him. "My Mom died when I was four. Dad was devastated; she was the love of his life. He never looked at another woman again…" Sam inhaled deeply against the tears trying to break out.

"After that Dad was away less and less, he wanted to be with me as much as he could, since I was his only son and his only family. We were slowly getting over her… death…" This time it was Dean's turn to wrap an arm around the other's shoulders. Despite Sam's words, he knew the boy wasn't and had never been over his mother's death. "Everything went back to normal. But then one day, when I was ten, Dad burst through the door, yanked me up and threw me into the car. Back then I didn't know why he did it, I asked him so many times, but he never told me.

"For the first two years we moved from one town to the other, never staying in one place for too long. I think he wanted to throw the authorities off our tails. At least that's the most logical explanation now. However, I…" Sam blushed slightly, but it was overpowered by the misery in his eyes. "I found out I was a hermaphrodite. I was so freaked" Sam laughed softly. "I was crying my eyes out because I thought I was dying but then Dad told me I was 'special'." The last word was accompanied by air quotes and a sarcastic tone.

"You are special" Dean objected immediately, but Sam just looked at him in disbelief. "You _are_" Dean emphasized. "Especially to me." Sam blushed again but at least the disbelief was replaced by gratitude and a shy smile. "So what happened next?"

"We returned to Sioux Falls" Sam continued. "Dad dropped me off at an old family house on the outskirts of the town and told me to pack our stuff away while he went for provisions. We lived there ever since. Dad never let me out of the house, he even asked a friend of his to secretly home-school me. I could do nothing but read or watch TV or lie around the house doing nothing. But at least I wasn't useless." Sam smiled as he remembered the days in the old house. "I was taking care of my Dad and the house while he was taking care of me, protecting me. And even if I annoyed the living hell out of him when I bugged him for something or another, he always showed me that he loved me.

"And then this summer…" Sam's voice saddened again and Dean tightened his hold around him. "He just barged in like he was being chased and ordered me to pack up, 'cause we're leaving. But he was too late…" Sam shuddered as he relived that day, while Dean watched him with worry. "I remember being grabbed from behind… Someone shut my mouth with their hand… I tried to fight and cry for help but… Then a gun was shoved into my temple and I was so scared… They tied me up and duck-taped me then I was being pulled down the stairs and to the living room…"

Dean shifted so he could pull Sam into his arms easily. The poor boy was crying now, fat tears rolling down his cheek. Sam leaned into Dean for a few minutes gathering his thoughts together so he could finish his story.

"Dad was so terrified when he saw me" Sam went on, pulling away and wiping at his tears after he calmed down. Dean was rubbing his back gently, wishing Sam would just stop for now, but knowing this was necessary for the boy to ease his worries and mind. "He and Graven were talking about me, that hiding a Different One was against the law. I was so confused but I couldn't let my Dad suffer because of me, so I convinced him to let me go. He promised to find me…"

"That's why you were watching the guests" Dean noted, realization flashing through his mind. "You hoped he would show up and then you could meet him again." Sam just nodded.

"Anyway" he said, "the next two weeks I was in Evansville. I was so shocked to find out I was taken to be a slave. I never knew that slavery still existed and that so many people are captured. And finally, two weeks later, I was brought here."

"Thank God you were" Dean breathed. Sam looked at him in surprise. "I bless Ramon every day for finding you amongst the other servants, because if he didn't… we wouldn't be here." Sam felt touched at those words, realizing the blessing in disguise. After everything he had gone through, he was here in the arms of a man he loved and who loved him just as much. He couldn't, wouldn't wish for a better place. He caressed the man's cheek lovingly before leaning in for a kiss. When they pulled away he sighed, nestling into Dean's side, the man pulling him into a tight hug. He felt so much easier now.

"You wanna talk about it?" Dean spoke suddenly in a grim tone. Sam looked up at the man in confusion.

"About what?" He told Dean everything he wanted to know, didn't he?

"About your mother's death…"

Sam froze at the four words, eyes wide from shock and dread. Why would Dean want to know about _that?_

"No" Sam shook his head, pulling out of Dean's embrace so suddenly like he was burned. "It happened a long time ago… There's no reason to bother what's in the past…" Before he could stand up, Dean grabbed his arms, holding him in place.

"You're clearly not over it" Dean spoke in a firm but soft voice, which strangely just angered Sam even more. "Your reaction right now is proof of that."

"Why the hell would you want to know?!" Sam spat back, his voice rising. He tried to yank his arms out of Dean's hands, but the hold was too strong.

"I just want to help you" the man was still speaking softly. "I can't bear to see you hurting this much." Sam stopped struggling as he noticed the pained look in Dean's eyes. Sam didn't want to do this, though, he didn't want to rip the wound open again… He had abused it many occasions, he wouldn't be able to withstand another time. "Please…" And now Dean was begging…

At last Sam nodded, but when his arms were released, he scooted away from Dean, not wanting to be rejected when he was in his arms, not wanting that unique scent, the loving touch to be torn away after this. Dean looked slightly hurt, but didn't say anything to Sam's actions.

"It was a normal day" Sam started, his voice shaking despite his efforts to keep it even. "I was begging my Mom for hours to buy me candy, so she decided to go to the mall to do it. She was away for a long time, she's never been away for so long. Even Dad was worried…

"That night the bell rang" Sam's voice was now shaking harder. Dean knew he was on the verge of tears. "I heard people downstairs: my Dad and two strangers. They talked for a while, I didn't know what. Their voices were too low for me to hear. After the strangers were gone, Dad came up to my room, tears in his eyes, and he told me that Mommy's not coming home. I asked Dad when she'll be back and he said she'll never be back."

Dean's heart broke when the tears began flowing again. He couldn't imagine how a little boy could deal with such horrible news.

"Years later" Sam continued, not even bothering to dry his cheeks, "I found out what happened. When Mom was at the mall, a group of men barged in and opened fire with their guns without question. They wanted to rob the place. One of the bullets…" Sam's words were cut off by a hitch of breath, which he tried to cover with his hand. Dean watched as the boy pulled his legs up against his hitching chest, creating a cocoon around himself like that. "One h-hit Mom, right in the ch-chest… She b-bled out on the f-floor…"

"That's horrible" Dean rasped out, fighting the urge to cry with tooth and nail, so he could stay strong for Sam. He tried to stroke at the shaking shoulders, but Sam shied away from his touch. Dean didn't understand why.

"It was my f-fault!" Sam sobbed out, curling up even tighter, trying to hide from the world. His outburst was met by stony silence. Dean was frozen on his spot, shocked to the core. Why would Sam blame himself for the death of his mother?

"How can you think that?" he asked bewildered.

"If-If I ha-hadn't asked her to g-g-go, sh-she'd be a-a-alive!" Sam's voice was muffled by now as he buried his head into his knees, sobbing brokenly. Dean couldn't take it anymore: he slid next to Sam and pulled the distraught boy into his arms.

"It wasn't your fault" he shushed Sam, who clutched at Dean's T-shirt desperately, chest heaving erratically from his sobs. Dean tenderly combed his fingers through Sam's brown tresses. "You couldn't have known that the mall would be robbed that day. There is no way that you could be blamed for this. You were just a four-year-old boy who had a craving for candy, that's all. She could have gone to any other shop to get it. She could have gone for something else, too, not just because you asked her."

"B-But-"

"_It_ _wasn't. Your. Fault!_" Dean repeated, doing everything to get it through Sam's thick skull. All those years of self-loathing and guilt for something that wasn't even your fault… Dean couldn't imagine how Sam even survived with a sane mind. "No one blames you for what happened. Not even your Dad. I bet not even your Mom thinks you're responsible, you hear me?" Sam's sobs decreased in volume, taking in everything Dean said. He could see the logic in them, but… But what? Dean was right: he shouldn't blame himself. He didn't know… But it still hurt…

Dean peeked down at Sam's face. The boy had his eyes closed, clearly absorbing Dean's comforting. His thin lips were shaking as he gasped for air, one fisted hand in front of his mouth. He looked like a little boy now, missing his Mom, not understanding why she wouldn't come home… For a moment he thought he caught a glimpse of a younger Sam, as well, before he realized it was the face of a different boy from his own past.

"M-My last mem-mory of her is on the f-f-fun-eral" Sam muttered out between gasps. "I th-thought she was s-s-slee-ping."

"You need to remember her by something else" Dean spoke softly. "By something happy. Something that reminds you of what she was like. I know how tough that time is, believe me… But that's how you get over the grief, over her death… That's how I got over Dad's…"

"I barely r-remember her v-v-voic-ce" Sam stuttered out, his sobs strengthening again. "I don't w-want to f-forget h-her…"

"Just concentrate on what you _do_ remember" Dean answered. They fell silent for a few minutes, Dean's hold strong and firm around Sam and Sam wishing the man would never let him go. After a long while, a yawn broke out of Sam. His sobs had died away by now. Without a word, Dean lay down onto the bed, pulling Sam with him. The boy curled into his side, head still resting on Dean's chest, the occasional tears seeping into the T-shirt. They stayed silent until sleep consumed their minds, but even the darkness couldn't separate them.

* * *

><p>Morning came too soon after such an exhausting night. Sam winced as he felt his eyes stinging from dried tears and his nose itching. He felt a little embarrassed as he remembered last night. He just cried all over Dean! But the man was so patient and gentle with him and at the same time protective and strong. Sam had been afraid Dean would hate him… Instead he helped him understand how he was not to blame for his mother's death… If Sam hadn't already been in love with the man, he would fall head over heels for him because of that.<p>

If only he could admit that to Dean, as well…

All of a sudden, a niggling in his mind interrupted his thoughts. Sam frowned. Why did he wake up in the first place? By the sound of it, Dean was still sleeping. The room was silent… And the air was a little tense…

A clearing of a throat next to the bed startled him. He froze in his place in fear. They were busted… Someone found them in each others' arms… With anxiety, he slowly looked up.

"Ramon?" the man in question was standing at the bedside like a marble statue, his dark gaze just as cold as one. The last time Sam had seen such anger was when Sam was chewing Dean out because of the whole smoking-fiasco.

Sam's surprised – and fearful – outburst caused Dean to startle awake. Looking up, the man's eyes widened as much as Sam's.

"R-Ramon?" Dean spoke, his voice shakier than Sam's was, which confused the boy. "What are you doing here?"

"I just came to tell you that Sam was missing from his room" Ramon's voice was even colder than his gaze, if that was possible. "But I see it doesn't matter anymore." Sam slowly lifted his body off of Dean's and the two sat up cautiously, not certain about Ramon's behavior. "Breakfast will be served in a few minutes" Ramon murmured before marching out of the room. Sam and Dean jumped out of the bed and Sam walked to the door to hurry downstairs. He was already late with his morning chores.

"Wait!" Dean called out suddenly. Sam turned around and found himself in the man's tight hold, their lips joined in a firm kiss. Sam slid his hand onto Dean's cheek, cupping it lovingly. As they pulled away, he caressed the skin with his thumb, while Dean stroked slowly down his spine, making him shiver.

"I should go" Sam whispered, gazing sadly into the jade-green eyes that mirrored his feelings. Dean nodded before letting him go, but Sam caught a glimpse of fear on his face before he shut the door.

Sam quickly caught up with his morning chores and by the time he was done, Alex was calling for breakfast. He was afraid that it would be tense since he was caught in bed with his Master, but when Ramon didn't join them he breathed a little easier. Mark just grinned at him knowingly from where he sat at the table.

Not a moment after Sam stepped into the kitchen, returning the young man's grin with a timid one and a shrug, Alex arrived back from serving the Master's breakfast. The azure eyes widened slightly, before Alex leapt forward and hugged Sam.

"We were worried about you" he said letting the boy go. "We thought you tried an escape or something. Where were you?"

"I-I…" Sam stuttered, blushing furiously. Mark snickered at that, but didn't say anything. "I was with the Master…" Sam lowered his head, fearing the anger of his friend, but he was "disappointed".

"Oh" Alex replied, his voice so plain that Sam snapped his gaze up at him incredulously. The understanding expression on the young man's face was the only emotion he could find, and he was searching for anything else thoroughly.

"Wait, you knew?" he exclaimed, glancing at Mark in the background, who just shook his head slightly. "But how?" Alex just smiled mysteriously and returned to the table, serving them the breakfast. Completely taken aback and with a puppy-eyed look of confusion, Sam joined them at the table. Something flashed through his mind at Alex's and Mark's smile. Was it one of them who left the door open every morning for Sam to sneak back? That must mean that they didn't mind his choice of love interest. He felt immense relief wash over him at that realization.

That relief didn't last long, though.

After breakfast Sam was washing the dishes, alone this time since there weren't a lot of them. He was humming to himself happily, just a silly melody from his childhood. He felt ridiculously cheerful, as if a huge amount of weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He never felt so relaxed and confident towards the future.

He was still in his happy little world, when it was penetrated by a raised voice. It was heavily muffled, so Sam needed a second to return to reality and listen for the source. When he succeeded, he noticed that it was coming from above… From the Master's bedroom…

As Sam listened closely, he recognized Ramon's angry tone and Dean's defiant replies. Knowing well what the fight was about and worried for Dean, Sam left the dishes and hurried onto the first floor on the backstairs, drying his hands quickly. The voices became cleaner as he reached the back door of Dean's bedroom.

"Who the hell do you think you are?!" Dean shouted angrily. "I can take care of myself without you!"

"I was always by your side!" Ramon retorted loudly. "I was always helping you, comforting you, protecting you when you broke down, even after your uncle's death I was the one who consoled you besides your Mom! I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you again, so I damn well do everything to prevent it!"

"He would never hurt me!" Dean snapped back, but Sam caught the crack in his voice. Dean began doubting Sam… Ramon was making him reconsider… The anger Sam felt was overflowing his senses and mind, he could barely hold himself back to barge in and punch the man in the face. Slowly Sam turned the knob and opened the door enough to peek inside. He had a clear view of Dean's expression of rage, while Ramon was standing with his back to Sam's point of view.

"How can you be so sure?!" Ramon shouted now. "You barely even know him! He could just be playing with you then crush you into pieces! What if he just uses you to get out of here?" Sam was now breathing hard, hearing the accusations. How can someone as kind as Ramon say all of that? Sam thought he'd never gave any indication of some devious plan or that he would be the kind of person to use someone for his own selfish needs. He wasn't like that. He himself was tearing himself apart because of loving Dean, knowing it was a hopeless case and he would kill himself first before hurting that wonderful, loving man.

However, Ramon's hateful words were working. Dean's anger melted off his face, replaced by uncertainty and doubt, a broken look that Sam never wanted to see again, that made Sam curse Ramon for digging deep into Dean's heart and ripping it into pieces. That look snipped Sam's will to stay in his place: he marched into the room and threw himself in front of Dean, facing Ramon with dark, mostly brown eyes spitting lightning and fire.

"How dare you?" he hissed venomously into Ramon's face, but the man was standing his ground. "You don't even know me. You don't have any right to spout lies about me."

"Yeah, right" Ramon spat back. "How should I know they are lies? What if they're not? I'm not gonna let you destroy Dean with false hopes and empty promises!"

"I would never do that to him!"

"Why should I trust you?! Tell me one good reason to believe you!"

"Because I love him!"

The outburst was followed by a silence so full of surprise that it could've leaked out the doors and windows. Ramon's expression of shock was mirrored on Sam's face before a determined look shoved it out of the way. Nobody could move, as if the air was from concrete in the process of hardening. Long, hour-like minutes later, a small broken voice broke through the staring contest.

"What?"

The air shattered, returning to its fluid, invisible self. Sam turned around slowly, facing Dean and his wide green eyes filled to the brim with hope and glinting with tears. Sam stepped in front of the man, who right now looked years younger than Sam himself. Sam just wanted to hug him tightly and whisper his love into his ears, holding him forever. Cradling Dean's face, Sam looked deeply into that beautiful green ocean, his voice barely above a whisper:

"I love you."

The moment those words left his mouth, Dean smiled brightly and pulled the boy into a hungry kiss. Sam smiled against the full lips, moving his own to match with the other's movements. Their tongues caressed each other slowly and lovingly, mapping out and memorizing every touch and taste, sending jolts of pleasure through both of their bodies. Sam hummed at the mixed taste of menthol and Dean with a hint of coffee. His nostrils filled up with that unique cologne Dean used and some motor-oil absorbed by the clothes the man was wearing. That lingering smell reminded him of home, the old family house he lived with his Dad where the older man was fixing up cars for a living, when he didn't want to spend their money in the bank.

Now that he found that smell with Dean, everything fell into place. He was absolutely certain about being with Dean, loving Dean, having Dean's babies… That thought made him gasp from the whirlwind of emotions awakening inside him.

Finally, they separated, just keeping each other up after the breath-taking, mind-numbing kiss they just shared. Taking a minute to get some air, Dean's eyes roamed over Sam's features. The boy's eyes were closed, still in the fog of pleasure, and he was absolutely gorgeous. Dean wanted to see him like this every day, every time when they were together…

_Together…_

He liked the sound of that…

He breathed Sam's scent in. It was pure and untainted _Sam._ It was musky but gentle – almost feminine, not stinging his nose like his own sweaty smell. It was nothing like he had ever experienced in his wilder years: it was an alluring, one-of-a-kind fragrance. A special scent just for Dean's pleasure.

Suddenly he realized where he was and who was watching them. He turned his eyes towards Ramon and chuckled in amusement at the man's dumbfounded look. Sam seemed to have return from his cloud back to Earth, because when he looked up, he blushed at the sight of someone witnessing their intimate moment. At that Ramon's face morphed into acceptance and a happy smile with a hint of apology. Dean snaked his arm around Sam's waist and the boy nestled into his side, leaning onto him with a content sigh.

"Hey, Ramon" Dean spoke at last. The addressed one quirked an eyebrow in response. "Would you mind if from now on Sam would wake me up in the mornings?"

Dean's question was followed by a giddy giggle from Sam. Yeah, he could do that. And enjoy it, as well.

_TBC_

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><p><strong>So, how did you like it? Is it okay? Was the SLASH enough?<strong>

**Could you help me with something? I need a few ideas. I want to make Sam and Dean happy before I start in on the action (that involves lovemaking, too). If there's something you'd like to see, some little fluffy scene, where the boys can be lovey-dovey and sickeningly cute, I'll gladly accept some ideas. I'll even credit you for them.  
><strong>

**Also there were some positive responses for Alex/Mark scenes without Sam and/or Dean. Would you be okay with me sometimes steering away from the main characters, just for little scenes? I know I asked this already and those who answered don't have to answer again. This goes for Ramon/Newbie (I only got 1 opinion on them, they don't seem to be so popular... I think I know why, though...)  
><strong>

**So, that's enough of my rambling! Thanks for all the feedback and keep them coming! It makes me a very, very happy writer.  
><strong>

**All of you are AWESOME!  
><strong>

**See you at the next chapter!  
><strong>


	17. Best of Both Worlds

**ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!  
><strong>

**ULTIMATE WARNING IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!**

**AU, OOC, moderate SLASH! (I'm on a roll! ;D) SlightlyVoyeur!Virgin!Sammy in here! :D And some Alex/Mark. (There'll be more, I promise.)**

**Hey, guys! I'm soooooo sorry for the late update. I was struggling with a few little scenes in here and to get my diploma/degree/whatever. But now university is over for me, I'm on job-hunt, so I'll have some spare time. :D  
><strong>

**I hope you're gonna like the new chapter. Could you tell me if the graphicness is suitable for the writing style of this story? If not, I'll rewrite it to a more fitting one. *epic foreshadowing* :D**

**Some of Sam's behavior in here is based off of some of my own actions, especially the tactileness and the overthinking. :( Ever since I found out that Canon!Sam is a Taurus, like me, I can't help but find similarities between his behavior and mine. So I took the liberty and used this knowledge up for my Sam. Hope you don't mind!**

**Also, I couldn't help but go full-on cheesiness in the end. And of course, _Wicked_ is not mine. *points up*  
><strong>

**Anyway, enjoy the 19-PAGES LONG chappy! ^.^**

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><p><em>Chapter 17: Best Of Both Worlds<em>

Everything returned to normal at the Winchester mansion. Tension drained away, friendships were reinforced and trusts were formed. Ramon apologized to Sam for his behavior, but Sam understood that the man was trying to protect Dean like he had always done, and he couldn't get mad at him because of that. Sam was just relieved that everyone accepted his relationship with Dean. Now it was up to the older man to tell about it to his mother.

After everything settled from the fight, everyone returned to their tasks. By the time afternoon arrived, Sam was done with his tasks, less than the average for a change. He decided to hang out in Dean's room and look around since he hadn't seen it during the day, and hadn't had the chance to investigate.

The room itself was gorgeous. It had the same cream-colored theme in it like the whole mansion, but it was still unique in a way. There was a bookshelf next to the big window, half of it stacked with books, the other half full of CDs and cassette tapes. As Sam looked them over, he spotted a whole lot of rock bands like Metallica, AC/DC, Motorhead and so on. Sam shook his head with a smile.

_'Mullet rock…'_

There were also two smaller couches in the room, one of them looking towards the window, while the other was opposite a flat-screen TV that made Sam's jaw drop. It was big! Sam could just imagine Dean sitting here watching the game or some show with a beer in one hand… like his father did in the old family house. Sam had to smile again at the image, although it had a sad edge to it.

In one end of the room was the king-sized bed Sam had been sleeping in for the last few days and had made every morning. It was covered with a cream-colored bedspread now, the big pillows put in order at the headboard. Sam was proud of his work: it looked like it leapt out of a magazine cover.

On the other side, next to the door leading to the bathroom, stood an ornate oak desk with a comfortable looking chair behind it. There was a closed laptop on the table, still plugged into the socket. There were a few papers strewn across the desktop, but it was mostly in order. As Sam walked around the table, he caught a framed picture on it with a happily smiling Mary and John on it, hugging each other in front of the mansion. Sam picked it up and took a look at the face of the father Dean loved so much.

The resemblance was perfectly clear: Dean looked exactly like John, down to the mischievous glint in the dark eyes. However, Dean inherited Mary's golden-blonde hair and jade-green eyes – and that beautiful smile Sam had fallen in love with all over again every time he had seen it. Sam's heart ached at the thought of losing a parent and John just looked so gentle despite his hard features, so trustworthy, so… so familiar…

Sam shook his head as he put the picture back into its place. The slight mess on the desk was starting to bug him, so he decided to tidy it up a little. He picked the pens up thrown around on the surface and put them back into the holder then sorted the papers out into neat little stacks. He couldn't help but look them over as he put them in order. They were just papers on the Winchester company, with quite a few legal words that Sam barely understood.

_"…success rate: 86% (complaints on the transportation of products…"_

_ "…technical developments required to increase the income of…"_

_ "…Dean Michael Winchester, Head of Winchester Woodworks, hereby authorizes subsidiary to extend its jurisdiction…"_

_ "…expenses spent on technical developments: $3,450,000…"_

_ "…value of purchased company: $15,000,000…"_

Sam's eyes widened at the number he found on the last paper. It was a contract about the purchase of a smaller carpenter company. He blinked a couple times, making sure he wasn't hallucinating. He knew Dean was rich and the business was extremely successful, but… _Damn!_

His eyes raked over the papers and something else caught his eyes: an annual report…

_"Total income: $2.8 billion"_

Sam's jaw dropped in shock. Even his father hadn't earned this much money… And here Sam thought that he came from a wealthy family. He felt his stomach churn at that. Poor Dean… Sam was sure many women had jumped into the man's arms only for his money. Could it be the reason why Dean had slept around for years, only doing one-night-stands and no settling down?

Sam shook his head and put the contract in his hand onto the business-pile. He didn't care about the money, he had his own in the bank. Dean was too nice and tender for his wealth to overshadow him and Sam loved him for him. With that he chased the thought of that much – too much – money out of his mind and returned to the cleaning.

When he was satisfied with the outcome, Sam eyed the closed laptop on the desk. God, he missed his computer! He had spent hours surfing the Internet for anything to chase his boredom away or read some novel published on it. Maybe he should check his mails, just in case there was something…

Sam shifted from one foot to the other, nibbling at his lower lip uncertainly, wide, nervous eyes darting from the laptop to the entrance. When nothing or no one jumped out to stop him in the next few seconds, he plopped down into the chair and lifted the top of the computer.

The device began whirring as it started up and Sam realized it must have been in sleep mode. He logged in, surprised to see no prodding for a password, and the screen lighted up with tables and diagrams. It must be the data for the business.

Sam minimized the different windows, raising an eyebrow at the amount. There must have been at least ten of them open. Dean had possibly been working before leaving for God knows where.

Sam opened a browser and rested his fingers on the keyboard. He wanted to check his emails but instead his brain led his hands to a different direction. Before he knew it, the web search listed quite a few entries, all of them common by one highlighted word:

_"Hermaphrodite"_

Sam had been awfully curious as a teenager when he had found out about his difference. He had asked Bobby about a few things but those had been kinda awkward conversations and hadn't lasted for long. Sam had a guess that if his mother had been alive, she would've been telling him about everything he needs to know about his own body. His father was too much of a man to discuss this with him – and this was the reason why Sam felt such a girl sometimes.

His hazel-green eyes looked the titles over on the screen then jumped back to the first one. He clicked on the link and an article appeared in front of him. He began reading it, skipping the historical part, where the ancient Greeks were mentioned. He scrolled down trying to catch something relevant for his situation, when something caught his gaze:

_"In the United States…"_

Sam quickly scrolled to the appropriate passage and began reading:

_"In the United States the first record of a hermaphrodite was dated in 1879. It was found among the records of Fair Maiden Infirmary in a small town in Arizona. One year after that, in 1880, the law of slavery was reestablished, including the hermaphrodite population. The new Slavery Act stated that the definition of 'slave' covers every person whose abnormality prohibits their duty to provide for the State and its flourish."_

Sam shut his eyes tightly against the gathering tears, pressing a hand onto his mouth to muffle the sudden sobs escaping him. _"Abnormality…"_ He couldn't believe it! Just because his body was different, slightly altered than the average male build, he was a freak? How can people be so cruel and simple-minded? Involuntarily, Marston jumped to the forefront of his mind. There were still people out there who were thinking this way. Will this ever be changed?

Will Sam ever be free?

Sam wiped his tears away and gasped in deep breaths to calm himself down. After a few seconds, he returned to the article:

_"This act is still in effect to this day. However, several attempts of modification were made, which were refused by the government. As of yet there is no chance of revision for this act."_

The rest of the passage was not able to keep Sam's attention as it turned its focus away from the United States. He was still wiping his flowing tears from his cheeks and eyes, hugely disappointed in the government and humanity altogether. His only hope is the changing view of the population. Maybe one day this will be a horrible nightmare. For now, his only ray of hope was Dean and the love flaming inside both of them.

_"Anatomy"_

Sam blushed from hairline to collar at the word his mind registered. There was a drawing next to the text, showing the organs inside a hermaphrodite. Sam looked it briefly over, but his face was so hot by now, he thought he would get a heat stroke. The text wasn't much better:

_"The hermaphrodites' body structure is a mix of the female and male body. There are two kinds of hermaphrodites: a female with male genital organs and a male with female genital organs. In a survey dated 2001, the collected data showed a larger amount of male hermaphrodites in the hermaphrodite population than female hermaphrodites. The survey also stated that 40% of the average male population consists of male hermaphrodites, while 28% of the average female population consists of female hermaphrodites."_

Sam skipped the passage about female hermaphrodites before continuing reading:

_"The male hermaphrodite's body structure is slightly more complex than the female ones. The average male organs were moved from their places to give space for the slowly developing uterus and ovaries. The vagina usually appears at the age of 11-12, mostly on the first day of the first menstruation cycle. From then on the hermaphrodites are fertile and capable of carrying children."_

Sam reread the last sentence. Thank God that his Dad was keeping him away from people! What if Sam had a fling with a guy and…? He shuddered slightly at the scenario playing through his mind. Now, though… Sam forced himself to return to the text.

_"The first male hermaphrodite pregnancy was recorded in 1896, in London. The baby was a healthy little boy, who, reaching his teenage years, hadn't developed hermaphroditic traits. In conclusion, the male child of a hermaphrodite has an equal amount of chance of being born with either an average or a hermaphroditic body structure._

_ Female children born from hermaphrodites have a less amount of chance of becoming hermaphrodites than male children."_

Sam could only stare at the information revealed to him. He knew almost nothing about his own kind. This article was very informative but he felt ashamed for not knowing all this. He was sure Alex was perfectly clear about his own body and traits.

_"A common phenomenon amongst male hermaphrodites is the case of 'triple-orgasm'."_

Sam choked on his breath as his eyes slid over the sentence. _"Triple orgasm"?!_ He leaned forward to read it attentively:

_"A common phenomenon amongst male hermaphrodites is the case of 'triple-orgasm'. Because of the relocated organs inside a male hermaphrodite's body, the prostate is pushed behind the uterus. If the hermaphrodite engages in sexual intercourse with a man, a certain angle during the intercourse stimulates the prostate, causing a third point where orgasm can be reached, beside the clitoris and the Gräfenberg-Spot (G-Spot)._

_ Otherwise, sexual intercourse through the hermaphrodite's vagina is the same as with an average female."_

Sam sat there for a couple minutes, just absorbing the information he received. So, he has the same anatomy as women, as far as the genitalia goes. He had the uterus, the ovaries, the menstruation cycles… So does that mean he's a virgin? Of course, he _was _a virgin, since he never had a lover before, but… Did he have the hymen, as well?

Sam buried his face into his hands. He felt so embarrassed, even though he shouldn't. This was natural knowledge about his own body. Then why did he feel like he was just caught watching porn? Pushing almost futilely against the growing mortification and just barely managing it, Sam returned to the article again:

_"During the researching of the hermaphrodites, scientists found what they call a 'self-defense' mechanism of the male hermaphrodite body. When the hermaphrodite's orgasm begins building in the uterus, this mechanism sends a signal to the brain, which stops the body to produce semen. When the hermaphrodite reaches the orgasm, no ejaculation of semen occurs."_

_ 'WHAT?!'_ Sam thought, blushing furiously for several reasons. This. Is. Weird!

"Sweet Lord…" he said out loud, before he could stop himself.

"What is it?" Sam jumped a mile at the voice in front of him. Snapping his head up, to his mortification his gaze landed on Dean's curious expression. Sam grabbed the top of the computer and slammed it down so hard and fast, even he had to wince at the sound. He hoped he didn't break the poor device.

"N-Nothing" Sam stammered, causing Dean's eyebrow to rise suspiciously. Sam dragged his gaze away from those piercing jade-green eyes and it involuntarily landed on Dean's-

He blushed before ducking his head embarrassed.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked, his voice worried but slightly amused.

"N-N-Nothing" Sam stuttered out and jumped out of the chair, almost knocking it onto the floor. He had to get out of the room and away from Dean. As he fled from behind the table, Dean caught his wrist and stopped him.

"Are you sure you're alright?" the man asked, pulling Sam into his arms. He could feel the tremors throughout the boy's body and noticed the flush on his skin. What was he watching on the computer that shook him up this bad?

"Y-Yeah, yeah" Sam nodded, still avoiding Dean's gaze, eyes flitting from one point to the other in the room, not settling on anything. The boy was nervous, Dean could see that. "I-I just need to… to go and… and…" With that Sam slipped out of Dean's hold and rushed through the door to the back hallway. Dean just looked after him in confusion, before tearing his gaze away from the half-open door and turning it to the laptop.

Dean was curious now. What could've made Sam lose his cool so hard? Was it porn? Dean hoped not; he would die from embarrassment if Sam found those kinds of videos on _his_ laptop. Dean had given up on that kind of pleasure along with women ages ago.

So, what could it be?

Not able to bear the curiosity and hoping it didn't kill him, Dean took a seat in the chair and opened the laptop.

And just stared.

* * *

><p>Sam leaned his head against the tiles, hiding his shame from the world against them. Cold water was beating down on his flushed skin, trying to cool the sudden heat that had begun spreading when he had started reading the article, especially the anatomy part.<p>

After escaping from the room, Sam had begun searching for a task he could do, anything to steer his mind away from what he'd read. He had roamed the whole mansion, looking for a chore to do, before realizing that he had already been finished with all of his tasks and the heat was still present inside him. That's why he had decided to take a relaxing, ice-cold shower.

And it was _not. Helping._

He was so embarrassed, so ashamed of what he had seen and of what he was. He never thought that he could be this much of a prude, especially concerning his own body. He shouldn't feel uncomfortable with the new knowledge… but he did.

However, despite the shame coursing through him, there was a small amount of curiosity that had peeked out from the darkness. He had gotten himself off quite a few times in the "male" way… so what's the difference between that and the… _"female"_ way?

Sam looked down at himself, as if hoping for the answer to be written on his skin. His body looked male, as always, even though his waist was slimmer and his hips were wider. Forgetting about the water beating down on him, he moved his hand to his stomach and _down…_ Fingers bypassed familiar territory and ventured forward into unknown areas, brushing at rough hairs and… soft flesh. Sam knew he reached the destination his curiosity was seeking, but had to pause as his stomach clenched from nerves. Should he take this step and discover the "new land" or stay in blissful ignorance until the time was right? Maybe with Dean… no matter how embarrassing his lack of sexual knowledge would be…

With determination and a deep breath, he moved his fingers past the flesh and into wet warmth. He was surprised by the unexpected feeling. He knew women became wet before sexual intercourse, but he didn't know it would be this quick. Or maybe he'd been wet for a while now…

With careful touches, he brushed the warm flesh, searching for the one thing he dared to experiment with. After a few seconds, a strange but barely there tingle shook him up, not even reaching his lower abdomen. He brushed that spot again, but the reaction was even less than earlier. He tried harder, but it barely did more.

Sam sighed in disappointment, his fingers still trying to coax out a bigger reaction, not wanting to let Dean down in the future. He closed his eyes and pictured Dean's beautiful green eyes looking at him, smoldering and oh-so-sexy… and that smirk that promised a whole night of fun and pleasure… and the toned, hard muscles under soft, tanned skin… he could just feel the hardness of his chest under his palm…

Sam's eyes snapped open with a gasp. He had been rubbing at that tender area a little harder, when one of the feeble tingles had shot up his spine, shocking his brain like electricity. Now the nerves of his whole lower abdomen were buzzing pleasantly. When he tried to rub again, the buzz dimmed somewhat. He closed his eyes once more and Dean's toned body returned to the forefront of his mind, this time stepping out of the bathroom… Drops of water gliding down the tanned skin… Sam felt the urge to just lick one off, which was running down the man's chest and abs…

The tingle shot up his body again, almost bending his spine in half. Sam's body instinctively curled up, as if preventing that to happen… or maybe because his abs were tightening up… or something behind them…

This time he didn't let his mind wander and focus waver. He kept up the picture of Dean in his head. His hand unconsciously reached out, as if to touch the man and in his mind he did. His fingers collided with warm, soft, wet skin and hard, defined muscles under it… He smoothed his hand onto Dean's shoulder before trailing it down his chest and abdomen then going back. His palm and fingers were trembling and the tingle in him did a mini-explosion when he realized his hand can easily mold into Dean's curves…

Dean stepped closer and his smoldering look just set Sam's body on fire… His arm was even starting to hurt from it, but he didn't care… He felt a hand on his body, slowly, teasingly caressing his thigh upwards and brushing Sam's ass before resting on his lower back… Sam moaned as Dean stepped even closer, just a breath away from each other… He felt his muscles contracting with sudden, quick spasms… Dean began leaning closer, ready to kiss Sam… Sam's arm was ablaze now, movement quick and relentless…

And then…

And then…

_And then_ Sam's arm was too tired to be moved and he had to stop. Sam returned to reality and the shower cubicle with breathy gasps. He rubbed at his arm and tried to will life back into it but it was hurting too much. The tingle in his body slowly dissipated and Sam's knees buckled. His back, which was leaning against the tiles, slid on the wet surface until Sam was sitting on the floor of the cubicle. He pulled his knees up, hugging them to his chest before burying his face into them and one hand into his hair.

_God,_ just a few seconds and it would've been perfect! He felt frustration tear at his mind and heart. He felt unsatisfied and slightly angry that his arm couldn't bear some more effort and work. He _knew_ he had been close, but it seemed so far away now. Tears of frustration glided down his cheeks and a gasp of a sob escaped his mouth before he clamped his lips shut.

"Sam?"

Sam jumped at the voice but he recognized it: Alex.

"You were in here for a long while" Alex explained sheepishly before the question even began forming in Sam's mind. He felt a little tired and had a guess if he talked he would be slurring slightly. "I was worried."

Sam didn't move from his pose of dejection, not even caring that he was naked in front of his friend… Okay, maybe he cared a little, judging by the tensing of his thighs as he held them tightly together to cover his groin.

A hand on his shoulder made him jump again and he just knew Alex was kneeling next to him outside the still running shower, looking at him with concern in his blue eyes. As the hand began rubbing at his shoulders, Sam realized that he must be trembling. The question, though, was: is it from the ice-cold water or from his little experiment?

"Come on" Alex spoke softly, as if speaking to a terrified wild animal. "Let's get you out of here, before you catch a cold."

_'Can anyone catch a cold from a cold shower?'_ Sam couldn't help but wonder, as he stood up. The stray thought helped to keep his embarrassment at bay while Alex was drying him with a towel and dressing him up. Sam was still a little numb from the _huge_ disappointment so he barely registered Alex leading him out of the bathroom and into their bedroom, laying him down into his bed. He felt the blanket covering him up to his neck and he curled up on his side, knowing his vulnerability wouldn't be noticed by anyone.

Except maybe one person.

"What's wrong?" Alex asked, sitting down next to Sam. The older servant's fingers glided through Sam's damp tresses, the touch so mothering that it stirred some memories in the boy's mind about his own mother. His body relaxed almost instinctively, eyes sliding closed with a sigh.

"Nothing" Sam answered finally, voice barely audible. He turned his face into the pillow, muffling the rest of his reply that tumbled out of him unconsciously:

"'S 'mbarras'n'…"

"You want to talk about it?" Alex tried again. At first Sam wondered if he decided to ignore Sam's lack of cooperation, but then:

"I promise I won't tell anyone."

Sam couldn't stop the sob breaking out of him at that. Why does Alex have to be so nice? The older servant was now pulling him into a comforting hug, shushing his distress with soft, whispered "It's okay"s and "Let it out"s. In the back of his mind, Sam realized that this is the second time he cried into Alex's shirt like this.

"Now" Alex spoke after Sam settled down with a pathetic sniff, "why don't you tell me what's wrong so we can figure it out?"

"'S stupid" Sam mumbled, the flush in his cheeks strengthening to extreme levels of shame.

"If it unsettles you this much, then it can't be that stupid."

"Yes, it is" Sam argued, trying to get Alex to leave it alone.

"Let me be the judge of that!" Alex replied, even more stubborn than Sam apparently.

"Why do you even want to know?" Sam asked, shooting up into a sitting position, at the same time breaking the pleasant cocoon of Alex's arms. As he dried his fresh tears, a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Because it hurts me to see my friend in distress" the older servant answered softly. When Sam looked up, he met concerned, maybe a little terrified azure eyes staring at him.

"You're gonna laugh at me" Sam tried one last time, but his voice gave his submission away… and from Alex's grin it was very obvious.

"No, I'm not" Alex looked so sincere, but Sam knew he won't be for long. Despite that, he sighed deeply and looked down before launching into his tale.

"I was looking up information about hermaphrodites on the internet. I found an article that described everything in full detail. But as I was reading it, I…" Sam swallowed and glanced at Alex fleetingly, checking the other's reaction. The young man was listening to him with full attention. "I found a part that was about the… _my_ anatomy and it f-freaked me out a bit…"

"Haven't you looked it up before?" Alex asked and Sam was relieved that he was only confused.

"Never thought about it…" Sam shrugged sheepishly. "I knew enough to get by, but I didn't get a chance to… study it to that… degree…"

"Okay" Alex nodded. "So what were you doing in the shower?"

"I…" Sam blushed even more. "E… E-Experimenting…"

"Oh…"

Sam buried his face into his hands, wishing he could sink into the ground and die. What could Alex think about him now? That he was a clueless virgin? It was true, but that didn't make it less embarrassing.

"Clitoris?"

Alex's sudden inquiry jolted Sam out of his self-pity and he snapped his head up to look at his friend. When he realized Alex was serious, he could only nod numbly.

"And let me guess" Alex went on, "no satisfaction?"

Sam's eyes narrowed as he examined the other's expression. Was there… _frustration there?_ Like what he had been feeling?

"Y-You, too?" he couldn't help but ask.

"You took it better than I did" Alex muttered angrily. "I actually broke the showerhead. I was so mad… At first I thought there was something wrong with me."

"And now?" Sam asked and his jaw dropped because Alex _blushed!_ Did that mean…?

"When Mark… _helped_ me… it made up for that first experience" Alex shrugged, twisting the blanket with his fingers shyly.

"So you… did you…?" Sam tried to ask, he really did, but the words wouldn't want to come out of his mouth. Alex just shook his head.

"You don't have to go… _all the way_ for that experience."

"What's it like?" Sam blurted out, before actually slapping a hand onto his mouth. Alex looked just as surprised at his question as Sam was. They sat in silence for a few moments, blushing and awkward, then Alex stood up.

"What you felt in the shower" he spoke softly, "is nothing compared to the real thing." And with that Alex fled from the room, leaving Sam blushing and hiding under the blanket in embarrassment.

* * *

><p>A breeze brushing down his back and crickets' chirps greeted Sam awhile later. He realized he must have fallen asleep after his talk with Alex. He instantly felt warmth flood his cheeks as he remembered the afternoon's events… And the long debate to go back to Dean or stay where he was in hope of avoiding the issue.<p>

How will he explain this to Dean? He was 100% certain that the man will have questions about his behavior, but Sam didn't know if he was ready to face him. What if Dean would want to… _do it…_ when it's brought up? He knew Dean wasn't like that, but he wasn't sure what the man wants out of their relationship… if you could call them being together that…

_'This is stupid'_ he scolded himself. _'We're l-lovers, right? We're supposed to be able to talk about… these things… right?'_ Sam had never felt so insecure about an issue before.

He wiped at his face in frustration then decided to get some water. His parched throat supported that idea, so he sat up in his bed and stumbled out of the dark bedroom, just noticing the open window. It was a hot night, one of the last ones in the summer lingering in September. Sam fanned at his face a little, his clothes slightly damp from sweat.

The kitchen was silent as he turned the light on, devoid of any occupants. Sam never even noticed that the others had gone to sleep. Only the hum of the fridge and the lamp gave the background noise to the quiet room. Sam opened the cupboard and took a glass out of it, filling it with cold water. He felt like in Heaven when the desert in his throat was washed down. He let out an appreciative sigh then his thoughts wandered away…

_Dean looked down at him, his jade-green eyes glittering in the moonlight with love and lust. His blonde hair was wet as if he had just stepped out of the shower, his arms were holding him up, elbows on each side of Sam's head. Full lips pulled up into a smirk before leaning closer and molding into his own…_

_ Sam moaned at the sudden touch at his groin then a finger breached him, sending that wonderful tingle throughout his body, causing him to gasp and arch…_

_ God, it felt so good…_

_ 'Don't stop…' Sam breathed barely audibly before a gasp cut his words off._

_ 'Shhh' Dean whispered back. 'I'll take care of you…'_

_ 'Mark…'_

Sam's eyes snapped open, startled by the name his mind conjured up. He almost lost his hold on the glass. Why would he think of Mark's name when Dean was in his mind?

"Mark…"

The breathless moan made Sam jump as he realized it wasn't part of his day-dreaming…

But a sound coming from the bedroom.

Sam put his glass down onto the counter and crept back to the door he let partially open when he had come out, turning the light off in the kitchen to investigate easier. However, when he reached the door and peeked in, he wished he hadn't.

On Alex's bed two bodies were lying on each other, moving ever so slightly from time to time. Sam saw Alex's face crystal-clear even in the dark, the flush of pleasure on his cheeks, the blissful expression on his face… The entwined fingers next to the young man's head… Mark's blonde hair at the crook of Alex's neck…

Sam lifted a hand against his mouth in shock. He wanted to leave, let the pair be, but the sight of the two together was so… intriguing… He had no trouble replacing the two – yet again – with himself and Dean… Sam stretched out under Dean while the man brought him to pleasures Sam had never experienced before… Or at all…

Another gasp broke out of Alex and the young man's hips twitched upwards a little bit. This attracted Sam's attention to that area and he was partially sad, partially relieved that the actual sight was blocked out. One of Alex's bent legs was bared, the blanket pooling around it after slipping off of the trembling limb. Mark's hand had disappeared behind the thigh but Sam could see the arm moving slowly back and forth. Every gentle… thrust, if Sam could call it that, caused Alex to gasp and shift closer to the body covering his, while his head tilted even more to give even more space to Mark's ministrations.

Sam finally tore his gaze away from the pair and quietly escaped from the servants' quarter. He found himself in front of Dean's room, but he didn't dare to step in so he sat down next to it onto the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest.

What had he just seen? It was way more than he wanted to know about Alex – or Mark for that matter – but… Despite the awkwardness of it all, Sam – '_Poor, prude, virgin Sam'_ he thought with a slight sneer – still found the scene… beautiful… As if it was straight out of a romance novel. And Sam had read enough of them, thank you very much. He recognizes the beauty of something like that…

Would it be like this with Dean? Would Sam be so lost to the pleasure like Alex was – is – with Mark? Dean had some experience with women and there was not that much of a difference between Sam and them so at least the older man would know what to do. Sam was just a little afraid that he wouldn't feel that way with Dean. What if something was wrong with him? What if he will totally suck at this… sexual stuff and won't even experience something like that with the other man?

_ 'What if I can't reciprocate the pleasure Dean gives me?'_

_'What if he won't find me attractive enough?'_

_ 'What if he will reject me because I'm sexually unappealing? Especially if I'm naked?'_

"I'm such a girl" Sam whimpered, tears of confusion and panic flowing down his cheeks, closely followed by sobs that he tried to muffle with his knees and arms. Why does he have to freak out this much? Why can't he just go with the flow and deal with things as they come?

But he knew why. Reading about such beautiful scenes in books, Sam had developed high expectations concerning his own future experiences, and it was so much easier to be disappointed or disappoint the other than fulfilling them. There were so many things that can go wrong and he can't stop his mind creating scenario after scenario about failures and rejection.

A hand smoothed onto his shaking shoulder comfortingly, before Sam was pulled up and into Dean's room. Sam would recognize that soothing touch anywhere. He didn't dare to look up from the ground, even when Dean had sat him down onto the bed and joined him, one arm around Sam. A soft textile wiped at his eyes and cheeks then it was pushed gently into his hands. It was a handkerchief.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked worriedly. Sam glanced up at him, meeting the genuine concern in the green eyes for a moment.

"Y… Yes…" he hiccupped. "N-no… D'no…" He began twisting the cloth between his fingers. He didn't stop when Dean placed a hand on both of his.

"You wanna talk about it?" Sam clenched his jaw against the fresh sobs trying to break free, preventing him from answering Dean's question. "You can tell me anything, you know?" Dean insisted, pulling Sam into his side. "I'm not gonna make fun of you."

"It's nothing" Sam snapped out, ashamed of and furious with himself. He pushed himself up to his feet and out of Dean's arms, leaving the handkerchief on the bed. He began wiping at his face and eyes angrily, his back to the man. He heard a sigh behind him but didn't react to it. Instead, he cleared his throat and crossed his arms, tense and ready to bolt out of the back door.

"Is it about the article?"

The question came so suddenly that Sam choked in the air mid-inhale. His eyes widened and his whole body froze – except the trembling. _Dean saw it!_ Sam wanted to slap himself so hard right now. _'Why didn't I close the browser?'_ he reprimanded himself inwardly.

"You didn't know about it, did you?" Dean continued.

"What?" Sam retorted. "That I'm more of a freak than usual?"

"You know that's not true-" Dean spoke, standing up and laying a hand onto Sam's shoulder, but it was slapped away as Sam turned towards him.

"Tell that to _those_ who say I'm 'abnormal'!" Sam cried out, but his voice wavered.

"Hermaphrodites are not abnormal" Dean argued, raising his voice.

"Yes, they are!" Sam shouted, not caring how late it was. "There should be two genders, male and female, not THREE!"

Dean suddenly stepped in front of Sam and grabbed Sam's upper arms.

"You listen to me!" Dean hissed, shaking the boy slightly, though his voice was anything but angry. "There have been three genders ever since I can remember: male, female AND hermaphrodite. This is completely normal, how the world has been for centuries, maybe even longer." As Dean spoke, his voice grew softer and softer, causing Sam to relax and tears to gather in the boy's eyes.

"If you're a freak" Dean continued, "that means Alex is one, too. Is that what you think?"

"Of course not, but…" Sam tried, immediately regretting his outburst in this new light, but Dean didn't let him finish.

"So if Alex is normal, so are you" Dean finished in a firm tone, cradling Sam's face with one hand.

"No, I'm not" Sam shook his head, dislodging Dean's hand unintentionally. He didn't dare to look into the man's eyes, fearing Dean's rejection when the other finally realizes that Sam's not worth it…

"Why?" Dean was getting frustrated now. "Because you didn't know? Newsflash, Sam: Alex hadn't known, either." The man let Sam go and turned away from the boy. "And he would've been safe if not for that goddamned family vacation…" A pause wormed its way into Dean's speech, but Sam had a feeling it won't go away.

"I'm sorry" Sam breathed after a few moments, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I feel so stupid…"

Dean turned back towards the boy, who was looking at him with misery in his eyes. The sight made his shoulders hunch and a sigh escape him.

"It's okay" Dean replied, stepping back to Sam and pulling him into his arms. The boy instantly leaned into him, sobs muffled by the man's shoulder. "Shhh, it's okay…" Dean soothed him, rubbing his back comfortingly. "Everything's okay…"

"I can't live without you…" Sam whimpered, tightening his hold on Dean's torso and fisting the man's T-shirt. Dean closed his eyes in pain, finally understanding Sam's behavior.

"There's nothing that could make me leave you… _Nothing…_" he answered, whispering his words into the boy's ear. They stayed like that for a couple seconds then Dean pushed the boy upright. "Tell you what: why don't you take a shower and we go to bed?" Sam nodded, but then remembered something.

"I-I can't go downstairs" he said, blushing slightly. "I… I just… can't…"

"It's alright" Dean smiled then walked around Sam to his wardrobe. Sam didn't dare to move from his place, so he just watched as Dean rummaged around before pulling a shirt and sweatpants out.

"These should fit you" Dean said, when he returned to Sam, and pushed the clothes into his arms. "You can keep them, I don't wear them anymore."

"Thank you" Sam answered shyly, slightly happy to have Dean's clothes. And they still smelled like him…

"You can use the towel in my bathroom." Sam nodded then hesitated a bit. Finally coming to a decision and the assurance that Dean wouldn't be mad at him, he leaned in and pressed a shy, grateful kiss onto the man's cheek. As he quickly turned away and dashed into the bathroom, he thought he caught a faint blush on Dean's face.

But he was just imagining it… right?

* * *

><p>When Sam finally emerged from the bathroom, completely comfortable in his new pajamas, he found Dean sitting at his desk, typing away on his laptop. Sam cautiously snuck closer and slowly wrapped his arms around the older man's shoulders, leaning his head next to Dean's. Dean just smiled at the action and turned his head to Sam to drop a quick kiss onto the boy's flushed cheek.<p>

"What'cha doing?" Sam asked quietly. He could see an e-mail forming on the monitor as Dean continued typing.

"Work" Dean replied. "I'm almost finished. Give me a moment and I'll be with you, okay?" Sam nodded, lingering for a couple seconds before moving off of Dean and towards the bed.

"You look hot in my clothes, by the way."

Sam turned back and found Dean admiring him up and down, a satisfied smirk on his lips. Sam couldn't help the coy smile that snuck onto his face and as he continued his way towards the bed, he began exaggerating the sways of his hips, knowing it would be visible under the shirt. Despite feeling stupid and fearing he would fall and make an ass of himself, he could feel the man's leer burning his backside.

"Dammit, you're a tease…" Dean murmured, probably not meant to be heard by Sam, who just grinned triumphantly.

He finally reached the bed and lay on top of the covers, too hot right now to hide under it, and kept his attention on Dean, impatiently waiting for the man to join him.

His wish came true accompanied by a couple clicks of the mouse and the snap of the laptop cover. Dean shut the desk lamp off, covering the room in darkness then Sam felt the bed dip next to him as the man lay down. Sam shifted towards Dean, who pulled him into his arms, pressing a kiss onto the boy's thin lips. Sam replied eagerly, one hand combing through blonde tresses before holding onto them, while their lips and tongues danced around each other merrily. Dean's arms were like vice around Sam's torso and he knew his own hold was no less.

All of a sudden, one of Dean's hands slid down his side and caressed Sam's ass, just the tips of his fingers. The move was so out of the blue that Sam jumped and blushed at his skittish behavior. Dean shushed him, before returning to Sam's lips, distracting the boy from other ministrations he was planning to do.

Sam whimpered when the same hand slid the tips of the fingers under Sam's waistband, both the sweatpants' and the boxers'. However, instead of invading into that territory, they just teased the boy's spine, causing Sam to gasp at the unexpected jolt of tingling he had felt only in his afternoon shower. The gasp broke the kiss, so Dean made his way down to Sam's jaw and neck, searching for a point that could drive the boy crazy.

The patch of skin just under Sam's ear was like a big X on a treasure map.

Sam's body arched so suddenly, it left not just Dean breathless but Sam, as well. The boy didn't even notice when they changed positions, as now he was lying on his back with Dean on top of him. The heat of Sam's blush could've burnt through Dean's skin – and the ceiling.

"W-What's…?" Sam tried to ask, unsure how and why his body is reacting so harshly to such simple touches, but another, a little damp caress on his neck interrupted him. He couldn't do anything but wrap his arms around Dean's torso and hold onto him desperately until he rode the feelings out.

"Can I try something?" Dean whispered huskily and Sam only had enough will not to lose himself to the swirl of pleasure and heat that had consumed him at that tone. Sam nodded vigorously, curious now what Dean wanted to do to him.

Nevertheless, he still tensed _the hell _up when Dean's _whole hand_ disappeared inside his pants… _His boxers…_

"Shhh, nothing like that…" Dean started calming the terrified boy, when pulling away he caught the look of fear on the other's face. "Just some… experimenting, okay? Nothing too big… Not yet…"

Dean's words did wonders to Sam's fear that vanished at the sincere tone of that deep voice… up until _'Not yet.'_ Did that mean Dean wants to have sex with Sam? And if yes, will it happen later in the night or much farther in the future?

While Sam was worrying over hidden meanings and (un)intentional phrasings, Dean's hand ventured even further into "forbidden territory". He had to swallow when his thumb brushed at Sam's half-hard length, so he could wrestle the urge to have the poor boy right here and now into submission. Instead, his fingers traveled further in, feeling Sam tensing up again, but a quick check on his expression assured Dean that it was now realization and – believe it or not – anticipation.

The light touch in the newly discovered area jolted Sam out of his thoughts and he figured out what Dean wanted then and there. He felt immense relief that… _sex_ will be much, much later, but at the same time he just wanted to know what Alex had been feeling downstairs…

What _that_ will be like with _Dean…_

As fingers brushed at the sensitive spot just behind the "gates", another damp caress – _'a lick',_ Sam corrected himself – brushed at the spot under his ear. The onslaught of sensations shoved a long, drawn-out moan out of Sam as the now familiar tingle traveled up his spine towards his brain, strengthening when Dean's other, free fingers massaged at it on the way in Sam's lower back.

"Good?" Dean breathed against Sam's neck, blowing at the skin at the same time gently.

"Yes… oh…" Sam gasped out, hips flying up to meet Dean's groin, head turning to the side to give more space. As Dean's hand was unintentionally pressed against the man's body, the next pressure of the fingertips was much harder than the previous one, causing Sam to let out a breathless cry, throwing his head back, mouth open, brow furrowed in an expression of pleasant surprise. This time, a growl followed the outburst, but now it was coming from Dean. The man just caught the expression on Sam's face before it faded into a pleading look followed by:

"Please…"

Dean grunted at the boy's tone as his body froze completely, causing Sam to whine impatiently. A second later Dean relaxed and his fingers began moving again, while his lips returned to Sam's neck. Sam fisted the back of Dean's T-shirt, pulling slightly to guide the full lips onto his own. His mission was accomplished: almost instantly Dean attacked him, kissing the living daylights out of the boy, while the strong fingers relentlessly worked on Sam's ecstasy.

Sam's whole body was tingling now, starting from his groin. It was nothing like the feelings in the shower… So much more than that… The muscles in his stomach began their frantic, but hard spasms, just pushing the pleasure up to higher and higher peaks… Dean now brushed his fingertips up Sam's spine right to the back of the boy's neck, before plummeting down the same way. Sam was shaking now, excitement and arousal fighting and sparring and embracing and… and…

White flash filled up his vision behind his closed eyelids as everything ceased to exist around him… His tense muscles froze in place, his body in a pose otherwise uncomfortable with the arched back and the tight fists… It felt like his body was suspended in air…

It lasted only a moment… But it felt like hours…

Slowly Sam returned to Earth, his limbs relaxing into the mattress, arms sliding off of Dean's body lifelessly. The cogwheels in his mind slowed down immensely, leaving Sam drowsy and – for some reason – satiated. Now he just wanted to close his eyes and sleep in the warmth of Dean's embrace – but there was one thing he had to do.

Sam forced his eyes open to look back at Dean with a drunken smile. The man was gazing at him in concern and curiosity, smirking in reply of Sam's grin.

"So, how was it?" Dean asked his heavy-eyed, astoundingly beautiful lover. Sam chuckled with satisfaction.

"Awesome…" the boy answered, still grinning. "And to think there's still… sex…"

"I heard it's good" Dean snorted, enjoying the state he brought Sam into.

"After this it better be" Sam answered hastily. Dean just shook his head, rolling his eyes.

"Come on, it's sleepy time" he spoke, laying onto his side and pulling Sam against his chest so the boy could rest his head on his shoulder.

"No, it's y-your turn" Dean noticed the nervousness creeping back into his young, naïve lover, so he stopped him quickly.

"It's okay, I'm already done" Dean reassured Sam then continued in a whiny tone:

"Man, you made me come in my pants. I haven't done that since my teenage years. That's not cool."

"Sorry?" Sam replied, but his tone betrayed not only the question but the suppressed laugh, too. Dean poked Sam in the side with a smile, and the boy stuck his tongue out at him. He settled down into Dean's chest, cuddling into the tight hold, before mumbling "Night, night" and falling – practically plummeting – into sleep and bliss-filled darkness. Dean chuckled at "drunken" Sam's antics, seriously considering getting the boy drunk just for a few laughs, before he followed him into dreamland.

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><p>A sharp intake of breath and a groan greeted the rays of sun falling through the window. Sam opened bleary eyes, looking around slightly disorientated, before the events of the night returned from their stroll during his sleep. He couldn't help the drunken smile that graced his lips, basking in the memory of that wonderful feeling Dean, who was lying behind him, molded to Sam's back, had shown him.<p>

A sudden flinch brought him out of his daydreaming, as a small pain flared up in his stomach. Bringing his hand to the source of it, his fingers collided with an arm… and with that his mind registered the hand in his pants. Sam blushed furiously, even though Dean's fingers didn't move, just rested on his crotch – thankfully – outside his boxers. As he shifted slightly in discomfort, Dean snorted slightly then burrowed into Sam's back, pressing a tender kiss onto the boy's shoulder-blade. Sam grinned at that, but he had to get up, no matter how much he didn't want to. He had chores to do, after all.

So, he began the long, _long_ process of extricating himself out of Dean's arms without waking the man up. At first he slid down slightly, so the hand slipped out of his pants, to which Dean's fingers wandered onto his stomach. Sam closed his eyes at the pleasant touch, willing himself to stay in reality.

Next came the dislodging of the arm around him. Sam carefully turned onto his back, so the embrace would loosen up. Dean, on the other hand, shifted even closer to Sam at that, sliding his hand up Sam's chest and resting it on the boy's sternum. Sam had to hold his breath back so he wouldn't emit a sound, but inside he was screaming:

_'Are you trying to kill me?!'_

Finally daring to inhale again, Sam carefully pushed himself to the side and away from Dean, his heart aching to leave the man – and the adorable sight he made – behind. When Dean's hand fell onto the mattress, Sam couldn't help but stay for a few moments just drinking in the peace the other was emitting during sleep.

Memories of last night drifted back into their places with small, inaudible clicks and Sam had to smile from them. Last night was perfect. Dean was such a gentleman, not doing anything more than what Sam was ready for, but giving the boy a wonderful time. He was already excited about their first time together, even though anxiety always accompanied that feeling. However, after what happened, Sam knew that Dean will be tender and loving, guiding Sam through the unknown motions and feelings the boy will encounter on the way.

Sam groaned inwardly as he stood up without a sound, becoming more and more reluctant to go downstairs. However, he had chores to do, so-

His thoughts cut off as another small pain flared up inside him. His hand automatically flew onto his stomach, the source of the pain. The slight horror of the realization wasn't far behind that instinct and Sam quickly turned back to lift the covers and check the mattress. As he moved he felt congealing liquid between his legs, the sheets, though, remained spot- and stainless.

Sam sighed. Now he _definitely_ had to go downstairs before his chores. With that, he laid a kiss onto Dean's blonde tresses then snuck out of the room, locking himself in the servants' bathroom with fresh clothes. He just blessed every deity's name residing 'upstairs' that the clothes from Dean stayed clean.

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><p>Sam quickly finished his morning tasks before breakfast. During the cleaning of the dining table, he met Ramon, receiving the job of waking the Master up as soon as possible. Sam jumped at the opportunity to see Dean waking up, blinking sleepily up at the person disturbing his dreams. Sam couldn't wipe the smile off his face at the picture forming in his mind, which didn't help the giddiness bubbling in his stomach since the experiences he had gone through the previous night.<p>

So, when he stepped into the kitchen, hungry and excited to see the older man, he shouldn't have blanched at Alex's sly comment:

"I was right, wasn't I?"

Sam froze in his place, confused by what the other servant could've meant, before the answer crashed into him with the force of a ton of bricks hurtling towards him. He couldn't stop the blush creeping up into his face, but even the embarrassment couldn't diminish the feeling of satisfaction and happiness.

"Shut up" Sam replied in the end, smile at least a mile wide and brighter than the sun. Alex just laughed at him and served breakfast to the servants.

After the meal, Sam quickly found himself in the Master's bedroom, sitting on the bed, eyes lingering on the peaceful expression on Dean's sleeping face. He didn't have the heart to disturb the dreams the man was experiencing, but Ramon explicitly asked to wake the Master as quickly as he can.

With an adoring smile, Sam leaned slightly closer and over the relaxed body, hand hesitantly reaching up and cradling the stubbly cheek. He couldn't help the thrill that ran down his spine at the scratching on his skin.

"Sir?" he whispered timidly, as if he was trying to wake Dean up without waking him up. Sam shook his head at his actions. How stupid is that…? "Sir, you need to get up."

His stronger voice was answered by a groan and some shifting. Sam smiled even brighter, finding the sight just as cute, if not cuter, as he imagined it. He caressed Dean's cheek lovingly then tried again:

"Sir, it's time-"

Before he could finish the sentence, a pair of hands grabbed him and yanked him onto the bed next to Dean… who decided to use Sam as his teddy bear, as he snuggled into the boy's body, groaning in pleasure. Sam blinked a couple times as he stared up at the ceiling, trying to comprehend what just happened.

"Sir…" Sam tried once more, attempting to wriggle out of the tight hold around his torso. He was still clutching at Dean's shoulder, fingers fisting the thin T-shirt, the leverage he found when he was moved so fast and sudden.

"Don' wanna…" Dean mumbled, voice muffled by Sam's neck as the man pressed his lips against the throbbing pulse. Sam felt slightly embarrassed and insanely hot at these turn of events. He had to try again, had to get Dean out of the bed before they would get into trouble, but the puffs of breath against his skin was so distracting and the scent of that damned, not washable cologne was singing to his soul and desire.

All of a sudden, his whole body went rigid, eyes slamming closed, hold tightening on the T-shirt. That feeling, that… _thing_ poking into his hip… Oh, God, what if… what if Dean wanted… He couldn't do this! He had never even done anything like that! Oh, God…

He almost didn't notice the loosening hold around him and didn't dare to look up as Dean leaned over him. He felt like crying, such a wimp for panicking because of something so trivial…

"Dammit, I'm so sorry" Dean apologized quickly, cradling Sam's face with one hand. "I didn't think… I was just… God, I'm such an idiot." A thumb brushed at the skin under Sam's closed eye, wetting it. Sam didn't even notice he started crying.

"It's okay" Sam breathed, ashamed of his reaction. "I was just… surprised, I guess…" He finally looked up and his heart broke at the mournful look Dean was giving him.

"I didn't mean to scare you" Dean spoke, trying to convince Sam. Sam nodded, knowing it now, but it seemed Dean was unstoppable. "I was just joking, you know I wouldn't force you to do anything… Especially not _that…_" Sam finally leaned up and drowned the rest of the words with a kiss.

"I know" he whispered with a gentle smile. "I forgive you. Not like I'm angry or anything."

"Still…" Dean muttered out with a shrug, but Sam could see he was relieved. "I'm sorry."

"I know" Sam repeated, still smiling. "Now get up! Ramon specifically asked me to do this quickly."

"Alright, alright" Dean grumbled, getting off of Sam and the bed then helping the boy up. Sam boldly leaned forward, but the kiss he pressed onto Dean's lips was still hesitant.

"Go take a shower" Sam murmured, stepping back. "I'll make your bed. When you're ready, breakfast will be waiting for you."

"Thank you, Sam" Dean replied then a smirk appeared on his face. "I could get used to this." He was accompanied to the bathroom by low, genuine chuckles behind him.

* * *

><p>The rest of the day went on normally. Only one difference occurred in the meantime: every occasion Sam met with Dean, the older man grabbed him and pressed a sweet kiss onto his lips. These little interruptions left Sam dazed and pleased, humming happily for the next few minutes as he did his tasks.<p>

At dinner, Alex returned from serving up the Master's meal with a strangely mysterious and cheery smile. He looked at Sam as they began setting their table.

"The Master asked me to tell you not to eat too much now" Sam raised an eyebrow at the strange request.

"Why?" he tried, but judging by the smile he wouldn't receive an answer. With a shrug, he finished with the table but did as he was told during the meal. The servants talked for a while lazily, just relaxing after a normal day.

However, as they stood up to get to bed, Alex stopped Sam with a hand on his arm.

"Eight o'clock, balcony of the Dining Room" he murmured then left Sam frozen on the spot. Sam frowned confused, a feeling nagging at him that this had to do with Dean. Maybe the man wanted to talk to him? He glanced at the clock in the kitchen. There was another half an hour until eight. He decided to at least shower and change into clean clothes. He would get his pajamas before bed.

After the shower, Sam made his way up the backstairs, frowning in confusion. Why would Dean want to meet him on the balcony? Although Sam wouldn't have known there was even a balcony if he hadn't wandered through the mansion on one summer night.

He slowly opened the door to the Dining Room, peeking in but nothing strange caught his eyes. He walked inside and only then noticed the drawn-in curtains in front of the glass door. Through the slit, a small streak of light fell onto the tiles of the room and a light breeze moved the heavy cream-colored drapes.

Sam carefully walked to the window and pulled the curtain away. The sight that greeted him made his jaw drop in stunned amazement, the light flickering from the draft he created with the curtain.

The porch was lit up by dozens of little candles strewn across the floor and lined up on the railing. In the middle of it all, a small table was standing proudly, two chairs waiting by its sides for their occupants to take a seat. The table was covered with a pristine-white cloth, a big bouquet of roses in the middle adorning the setting in a light-blue vase. Two plates were on the table – golden-streaked ones, Sam realized in surprise – with perfectly arranged food on them. Sam didn't recognize it, but from the smell wafting around he knew it had to be delicious.

"Oh, hey" Dean spoke, freezing as he turned away from something he was fumbling with on the ground. As the man stood up, Sam saw a CD player behind him and a remote control in his hand. "Is that the time already?"

"What…" Sam forced out, still not finding his breath from the sight. "What's goin' on…?"

"Well" Dean replied, rubbing at the back of his neck embarrassed, "I was considering taking you out on a date for quite a while, but because of… certain… circumstances… I couldn't do that." Sam could tell Dean was getting nervous from his silence, as the words began tumbling out faster. "So, I decided to set the date up here, since there's a nice view and we're outside, and I hope it's not too much, 'cause I've never done anything like this, and I'm rambling now, I'm sorry-"

A hand covered Dean's mouth, shutting off the flow of words gently. Dean was so busy explaining himself – he wasn't even sure, why he did that – that he failed to notice Sam walking up to him with a loving smile.

"It's beautiful" Sam breathed, looking around once more. His fingers slipped off of Dean's lips when the man looked up at him, so he lowered his hand. "Thank you so much…"

"You're welcome" Dean whispered back, mirroring Sam's smile. "Hope you're hungry!"

"Since you told me not to eat too much for dinner, yeah" Sam grinned a little teasingly. Dean just shook his head with a slight blush and didn't answer. They walked to the table and Sam's heart skipped a beat when Dean pulled the chair out for him. Sam blushed ten shades of red as he took a seat and waited for Dean to join him. They dug into the food silently, only Sam's moan breaking the quiet when he took the first bite.

"My God, this is delicious" Sam exclaimed as he hungrily shoved another bite into his mouth, forgetting table manners that were ingrained in him since childhood. Dean chuckled in amusement, making Sam pause, eyes wide and full of shame at his rude behavior. "I-I'm sorry, I'm not usually… I-I just…"

"It's alright" Dean lifted a hand up, stopping the apology. "Not a big deal to get carried away. Although, Alex will appreciate your praise on his cooking."

"He always makes such great meals" Sam remarked with a smile, holding his overly-enthusiastic self back now.

"And it was cute so don't apologize" Dean shrugged with a smirk, drawing a blush onto Sam's face at that. The rest of the meal was spent mostly in a comfortable silence, only some small talk flying back and forth over the table.

As they finished, Sam went to stand up, but Dean stopped him.

"Just sit still, I'll take care of it" the man said picking up the plates and taking them inside. Sam picked his glass up, sipping at the wine slowly, looking out onto the front yard. It was such a beautiful night, the crickets chirping away merrily and the stars twinkling in the sky. He sighed at the tranquility of it all, feeling it infect his soul pleasantly.

"Wanna dance?" Dean's voice snapped him out of the daze. When he turned his head back, he met with a hand held out in front of him. Sam carefully sat the glass down onto the table, blushing at the confession he was about to share.

"I-I can't… can't dance…"

"It's okay" Dean assured him with a hopeful smile. "We're not gonna waltz or do the tango or anything." Sam slowly grabbed Dean's hand and let himself be pulled up to his feet. They walked slightly away from the table and Dean wrapped an arm around Sam's waist, pulling him in close. "I just wanna hold you…" Dean breathed into Sam's ear, pressing a kiss to the boy's cheek. Sam laid a hand onto the man's shoulder, their other hands still holding each other.

Sam suddenly heard a small beep and low music began filling the air around them.

"'_Wicked_'?" Sam asked slightly incredulous, slightly teasing. "Really?"

"It fits us" Dean answered only. They began swaying, Dean leading Sam's body the way he wanted to move. Soon the lyrics started, the beautiful voice of a woman crooning into the night:

_Kiss me too fiercely,_

_Hold me too tight,_

_I need help believing_

_You're with me tonight…_

Sam, who had already leaned his cheek against Dean's, eyes closed, felt Dean's lips moving against his skin, mouthing the words into it. Tears began gathering in Sam's eyes at that recognition.

_My wildest dreamings_

_Could not foresee_

_Lying beside you,_

_With you wanting me…_

_And just for this moment,_

_As long as you're mine,_

_I've lost all resistance,_

_And crossed a borderline_

_And if it turns out_

_It's over too fast…_

_I'll make every last_

_moment last…_

_As long as you're mine…_

The arm around Sam's waist tightened even more at the words. Did Dean really feel that way? The song had a slightly sad undertone… Did Dean fear that this wouldn't last? That he would lose Sam? Sam couldn't blame him, though. He was living with that fear day after day… That Dean would realize that Sam wasn't worth it, his love… Maybe Sam was wrong about that…

A strong voice joined in the serenade, as a man took the lyrics over:

_Maybe I'm brainless,_

_maybe I'm wise,_

_But you've got me seeing_

_Through different eyes…_

_Somehow I've fallen_

_Under your spell,_

_And somehow I'm feeling_

_It's up that I fell…_

Sam couldn't help but smile at that. The hold around him was pleasantly firm and heavy. Dean pulled their joined hands onto his heart and Sam felt like crying at the gesture. Instead he just leaned his head down onto the man's shoulder, closing his eyes, enjoying the moment… just like the song said…

_Every moment_

_As long as you're mine,_

_I wake up my body_

_And make up for lost time…_

Sam knew the next part of the song, so he decided to declare his own feelings to Dean now.

"_Say there's no future for us as a pair,"_ Sam whispered into Dean's neck, feeling the shiver on Dean's shoulder. The man's mouth relentlessly lip-synched the song into his hair now, his breath ruffling the brown tresses slightly. "_And though I may know, I don't care!"_

_Just for this moment_

_As long as you're mine,_

_Come be how you want to_

_And see how bright we shine_

_Borrow the moonlight_

_Until it is through,_

_And know I'll be here_

_Holding you…_

Sam's hand was released as they stopped, tender fingers lifting the boy's head up. Dean locked his gaze with Sam's, hazel-green oceans reflecting the candlelight and the emotions in jade-green orbs. Dean began leaning closer, lured in by that beautiful gaze and the love shining in them…

_As long as you're mine…_

As the last word droned on, lips molded into each other, caressing and tender. Dean slid his hand up Sam's face into the short, growing tresses, combing through them as Sam cradled Dean's neck. Their lips opened up and tongues met halfway, soft strokes sending shivers down their spines. The music ceased to exist around them, dying away with a few silent words at the end of the song. Sam and Dean, however, weren't listening anymore, lost in their own little world.

Moments after the CD player went silent, the pair broke the kiss reluctantly, Dean stealing one more before pulling away. He looked at Sam's face lit golden by the candles and stroked his thumb over the soft skin, just catching a teardrop gliding down the flushed cheek.

"What is it?" Dean asked worriedly.

"It's just…" Sam started, sniffing quietly at the whirlwind of emotions inside him. "For the first time since all this mess… I feel…" Sam finally looked up with a smile, his gaze landing onto Dean's love-filled one, happiness blossoming in his heart. He finally finished with a whisper:

"Free…"

_TBC..._

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><p><strong>So, how was it? Hope it was enjoyable... *winkwinknudgenudge* :D<br>**

**Thank you for the small ideas you gave me. I'll try to include them in the story (my brain is already working Sadie and Missy into the ground :D), and if anyone else has a request, send it to me and I'll try to put them in, crediting you, of course.**

**Please, Read and Review! You give me such a confidence boost (and I need it, believe me :().**

**See you at the next chapter!**


	18. New Kid On The Block

**ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER: Every content, character, plot etc. that anyone is able to recognize as other's property is NOT mine. I have no intention to get into any trouble involving law and money.**

**ULTIMATE WARNING: So far most of my stories are turning out to be SLASH and MPREG. So they may contain mature, Male/Male Relationship and not so graphic sex scenes between two men. If you can't stand these or don't want to read them, please leave this story behind!**

**AU, OOC, SLASH! Sadie couldn't help but mess with Sam/Alex, but it doesn't last long.**

***Author collapses on the floor, sobbing loudly***

**Sadie: Hey dear Readers! Sorry for the... mess *glances back at Author, who's sucking her thumb rocking on her side whimpering* She had a rough year, folks, while Missy and I were on holiday, so be gentle on her.  
><strong>

**Anyways, here's the new chapter. We hope you'll be satisfied with it, even though it took a while.**

**The picnic scene in the beginning was requested by LillyAnnSkigh (sorry, I couldn't find your exact review but since I noted your username, it had to be you). We're gonna put most of the scenes suggested in the story (there's enough time before the crap hits the fan).**

**For now, though, enjoy!**

**IMPORTANT! The plan of the house online was deleted, because I changed it. I updated the chapters accordingly, but the core plot hadn't changed. Unless you'd like to see how the house looks like now, it's not necessary to re-read them.**

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><p><em>Chapter 18: New Kid On The Block<em>

The next morning after his chores, Sam found Alex in the kitchen making sandwiches, putting them into a basket.

"What's this?" Sam asked, stepping next to his friend.

"The Master asked me to make some food for a picnic" Alex answered, not stopping his work.

"Picnic?" Sam tilted his head slightly in confusion. "What picnic?" He couldn't stop the hope bubbling up in his stomach that Dean would do this for Sam.

"Probably a family gathering, or some business party" Alex shrugged, uncertain himself. Sam's hope wilted slightly, but didn't die out at Alex's hesitant tone.

"Yeah, maybe…"

"Hey, what's your favorite sandwich?" Alex turned to him with an idea. "It's good to have some variety in the food."

"I don't know" Sam shrugged. "I don't have any preference, although I tend to eat mostly sandwiches with tomato and salad…"

"Alright" his friend replied with a nod and made his way to the fridge pulling out some vegetables. "Thanks."

"Sure" Sam uttered, a little surprised. "I'll… go and do the laundry."

"Have fun" Alex called after him with a smirk and Sam shook his head with a roll of his eyes as he disappeared out the kitchen door.

* * *

><p>Sam put the laundry basket onto the washing machine to sort the clothes out. He was working slowly, lost in his thoughts about the picnic Dean was planning. Could Alex be right? Is it a business party? Although from his friend's tone that couldn't happen that often… right?<p>

Sam shook his head with a huff. What does he care? If Dean wanted to go have fun with his colleagues, then who is he to stop him? Then a terrifying thought wormed its way into his head.

_What if it's a woman?_

_'But that's ridiculous!'_ he chided himself. _'Dean loves me. I know he's not lying.'_ Which meant the only woman Dean would go on a picnic with is his mother, so it has to be a family gathering. Dean is such a family-oriented person, especially after the death of his father, Sam didn't feel any surprise that the man would want to cherish it like this.

His fingers closed around a familiar textile, the feeling bringing him out of his thoughts. He carefully lifted the shirt up, inspecting it with a smile slowly stretching out on his lips.

It was the shirt Dean had worn the previous night on their date. He caught a small dark spot next to one of the buttons. As he picked at it, scratching the dried substance, he realized it was the sauce from their dinner. Sam chuckled endearingly: looks like he hadn't been the only one nervous that night.

His smile slowly slid off his face, as he stared at the shirt. The night was perfect in every possible way: the candles, the meal, the music, Dean's arms…

Except the setting.

Sam knew how much risk they take with their secret relationship as it is, but that didn't stop him wishing for things to be normal. It would have been so nice if he and Dean could've gone to a romantic restaurant. Sam loved what Dean had done to create an intimate setting for their date in limited surroundings, it just wasn't the same as a date in a public place…

Sam shook his head, squashing his thoughts and feelings down. Despite the fact that they have to hide their love from the world, their first date was nothing but perfect. Sam hated himself for daring to complain about any of its aspects.

But still… he couldn't help but feel disappointed…

Shoving the clothes into the washing machine and turning it on, Sam marched out of the bathroom, inwardly hoping to escape his troubled thoughts. He decided to wash the tiles in the entrance hall, already dreading the silence that would give his mind multiple chances to wander anywhere. As he walked towards the kitchen to get the bucket and some rags, he bumped into Dean.

"Hey-" Sam started but he was cut off by a pair of full, smirking lips seeking entrance. Sam grabbed at Dean's arms to hold himself steady. How Dean could turn him into a pile of lovesick, teenaged goo with one chaste kiss was still lost on him. As they separated, Sam realized he was heavily leaning against Dean, as if only the man was keeping him upright. The boy blushed then straightened up, letting Dean go a bit reluctantly.

"You done for today?" Dean asked softly, his body flush against Sam's. The boy couldn't help but blush at the wonderful warmth emanating from the firm chest, filling his.

"W-Well, I still have some…" Sam tried to reply, but Dean cut him off again – this time verbally:

"That's fine, you'll do them tomorrow." A hand grabbed Sam's wrist and began pulling him towards the kitchen. Sam was taken aback at Dean's enthusiasm. What was the man so chirpy and excited about?

"Hey, Alex" Dean spoke, pulling Sam out of his shock and shoving him into blush-filled joy as the hand gripping Sam's wrist slid down to entwine their fingers. "Is the food ready?"

"Yes, sir" Alex nodded, handing the basket over to his Master. "And Mark is out in the back just like you asked."

"Awesome" Dean grinned. "Come on!" he inclined his head in the door's way, mirthful eyes on Alex, before beginning to pull Sam towards it. The boy caught the confused expression on his friend's face and could only shrug before he was out the door.

As Sam and Dean stepped out onto the porch, Sam noticed a blanket spread out in the middle of the backyard under a tree. The boy tilted his head bemused, still not really sure what Dean was planning to do.

As he turned to Sam with a smile, Dean caught the lack of understanding in those expressing hazel eyes. Hoping Sam would realize what his plan was, he pulled Sam with him and to the blanket, placing the basket down onto the ground.

Sam's mouth fell open as something quite unbelievable began forming in his mind. The basket was for a picnic… And Mark was just greeting Alex with a kiss next to them… Could it be…?

"You like it?" came the sheepish inquiry. Sam turned his flabbergasted expression to Dean, who was watching him nervously, hunting for a reaction and bracing himself.

"Is this… f-for me?" Sam breathed out, a lurch in his chest sucking the air away.

"And Alex and Mark…" Dean explained. "Originally I wanted everyone in the house to join us, but Mom and Ramon are busy right now, so…"

Sam felt tears gather in his eyes, but he didn't want Dean to think the wrong thing about it, so he cupped Dean's cheek and pulled the man into a kiss. Dean instantly wrapped his arms around Sam's waist, holding the boy tight, as if he was afraid he would lose him at any moment.

"I love you so much" Sam gasped out when he pulled away from Dean's lips. Dean just pulled him back into another lip-lock, caressing Sam's tongue with his own once before separating. The two joined Alex and Mark on the blanket, who were already munching on their sandwiches, occasionally sharing a kiss in between bites. Sam took a sandwich out, as well, and sat next to his lover so their arms brushed against each other. Dean smiled at him knowingly then bit into his own food, humming at the taste, his way of praising Alex's work.

Time passed with delightful chatting, sandwiches were shared accompanied by funny stories, like the time – or times, as Dean and Mark pointed it out – Alex almost burnt the kitchen down (_'Because I was always distracted by someone' Alex exclaimed in mock-annoyance, his words meeting with a loving kiss from Mark_), or how Mark liked to prank the occupants of the manor…

"… Except the Mistress" Mark pouted, nibbling on his food sullenly. "She always avoided my genius creations…"

"Yeah, 'cause she had the Master of Pranksters by her side" Dean replied smugly, chest puffing out with pride, which made Sam snort into his own sandwich. "She caught wind of your weak little attempts way ahead of time."

Catching the evil little glint in Mark's eyes, Sam had a hunch that the next story wasn't gonna be pretty.

"But my masterpiece has to be the one I pulled a couple years ago" the young man started, mostly addressing Sam, since the boy hadn't been a part of it. Dean's proud expression fell spectacularly, which meant that _he _was the victim of that prank. "I'm guessing that from the big music collection in the Master's bedroom, you realized how much of a fan he is of the "mullet rock"" Mark air-quoted the last words, which caused Sam to grin as he nodded. Dean just nibbled on his sandwich, sulking.

"What you don't know" Mark continued, smirk widening, eyes narrowing mischievously "is that amongst them there is a special CD from Led Zeppelin that the Master treats almost as equally as the Impala. No one could touch it without his consent and he would watch you like a hawk if you had it in your hands."

"Wow" Sam breathed, raising one eyebrow as he glanced at Dean surprised – and maybe a bit incredulously, too.

"So, one day I had a brilliant-"

"Stupid-"

"-idea" Mark continued, as if he hadn't heard Dean's grunt, although a small hitch in his voice said otherwise, "that involved this very CD. I executed my plan with the stealth of a jungle cat" Alex and Sam snorted at the same time as Mark told his tale with such enthusiasm, it was almost contagious. "Next thing everyone in the mansion knows, and probably the whole town, was the Master screaming in horror."

"What did you do?" Sam asked, trying to contain his laughter but his voice shook dangerously.

"Bastard scratched my CD!" Dean exploded in fury, but the others knew he wasn't completely serious.

"It was hilarious" Alex chortled, leaning against Mark, who was giggling gleefully. "Poor Master prowled around the house, complaining and panicking about his "precious"."

"And it was two or three days later when he realized" Mark choked out, trying to get air into his lungs through his laughter "that it wasn't the original disc, but an unusable copy of some software."

"A-Aww" Sam stroked at Dean's tense shoulders, chuckling at the sight of the man's pout.

"It's not funny" whined Dean, looking pitifully at Sam, as if the boy had abandoned him in this matter, leaving him alone. Sam wrapped his arms around the man and pulled him into a kiss, melting Dean's bad mood away.

The morning passed and the time arrived into the lunch hour. The sun reached the highest point in the sky, a few of its beams breaking through the leaves of the tree, only fading away as the occasional cloud swam in front of it. After the stories and exhausted from laughing, the quartet started in on the dessert. Seeing Alex and Mark sharing the strawberries, Sam had a sudden idea. He picked the grapes up and popped one of them into his mouth.

"Mm, this is delicious" he moaned softly then turned towards Dean with a sweet smile. "You want some?" It seemed the older man had a suspicion about Sam's plan, because he decided to catch the boy off guard – at least that was the only explanation Sam's slowly reassembling brain found for Dean lying onto his back, head in Sam's lap.

"Feed me, servant!" Dean ordered playfully. Sam chuckled as he carefully shifted around so both of them could be comfortable in their position.

"Immediately, my humble, generous Master" Sam replied teasingly and lowered the fruit towards Dean's mouth, letting the man eat a grape. He frowned when the older man's brow furrowed in silent contemplation. "What is it?"

"Something's missing" Dean mumbled while leisurely chewing on his grape.

"What on Earth could b-" Sam's disbelieving words were cut off by a pair of full lips and a soft tongue licking tenderly at the roof of Sam's mouth. The boy froze, eyes wide from surprise, while Dean was balancing on his palms to hold himself in place for the kiss.

After a couple seconds Dean pulled back.

"Perfect…" he breathed before lying down onto Sam's thigh, watching with satisfaction the blush that began spreading in Sam's cheeks, lips glistening slightly, the only trace left of his bold move – except Sam's stock still body. What felt like hours later, Sam jerked into life and a shy smile appeared on his face, as he gazed into Dean's mirthful, jade-green eyes. The rest of the grapes disappeared in between small kisses with either Sam leaning down or Dean hoisting himself up to get that extra taste that made the fruit, and life, that much sweeter.

* * *

><p>Unnoticed by the lovebirds on the lawn, a pair of dark, chocolate-brown eyes was watching the scene unfolding, sadness raying down onto the sight. Ramon was standing in Dean's bedroom at the window, his only companion the whirr of Dean's laptop that he asked for permission to use – and his thoughts.<p>

He sighed, when Sam leaned down once more to share a kiss with his Master, smiling a wide, dimpled smile of happiness and love. His heart lurched at the sight of it, jealous of the luck they had to find each other. He had found himself watching those two, or Alex and Mark quite a lot, wishing for the love they had for himself. He had learnt to live without it long ago, but when Sam asked him about being in love, it hit home very hard. And now, being a slave wasn't helping any.

With another sigh, Ramon turned away from the window, not wanting to torture himself even more, and sat back down to the desk and the laptop on it. His eyes ran over the e-mail still open on the screen and the lurch returned with more ferocity.

'_Querido,_

_I hope you're doing well. It was a long time ago since I wrote to you._

_I still think you should reconsider. Narcisa wants you here, as well, to celebrate. She misses you so much and she will only get married once… Hopefully…_

_I miss you, too, very much. My heart breaks every time I look into your empty bedroom. We all want to see you, the whole family wants to see how you're doing._

_So, please, come to your sister's wedding. I'm sure your Master will give you permission._

_Love you always, mi niño,_

_Mom'_

Ramon leaned onto the desk, laying his forehead onto his palm, eyes stuck on the words of his mother. He swallowed against the lump in his throat as he reread the letter, head aching from the thoughts and memories stirred up in his mind. It wasn't as if he didn't want to go, didn't want to see his family again… Finally… He was just afraid of being a disappointment to his parents, to Narcisa… Again, being a slave wasn't helping any…

"Ramon?" came the soft voice of the Mistress. Ramon looked up as Mary walked up to him with a worried frown on her face. "Is everything okay?"

"Not really" Ramon sighed, feeling tired and old all of a sudden. When Mary stopped next to him and glanced at the screen, she let out a small "Oh…"

"Ramon, you should go" Mary spoke, stroking the tense shoulders under the thin shirt. "They want to see you. I don't think they would say anything against you being a slave."

"I just don't want to humiliate my sister" he spoke quietly, gaze lowered to the top of the desk.

"And you're ashamed yourself" Ramon nodded at the Mistress' conclusion. "Look at the letter."

Mary gently guided Ramon's gaze back to the letter on the screen. The brown eyes slid over the words once more.

"Are these the words of a parent, a mother ashamed of her child, her baby?" Mary asked, letting Ramon's chin go. He swallowed again before shaking his head minutely. "So, you're gonna go to the wedding, see your family and have fun. Okay?"

"Yes, miss."

"_Okay?"_

The tone of the Mistress was sharper and firmer. Ramon flinched slightly, as the word stung despite the relentless, gentle strokes on his shoulders.

"Yes, miss." This time he heard the sincerity in his own voice. He surprised himself, too.

"Good." Mary's hand slid off of Ramon. "Now, you can write back and come help me, okay?"

"Yes, miss" Ramon answered, hands rising to the keyboard. "I'll be right there."

Mary departed with a smile and a satisfied nod as the typing started up behind her.

* * *

><p>As the sun began its descent on the sky, Dean leaned back onto his hands, face turned up towards the rays poking through the leaves. After they'd finished the sandwiches and talked, Alex and Mark had taken the basket back inside, walking together in each other's arms. Dean had laid the blanket under the tree and relaxed some with Sam. The boy was currently resting his head on Dean's outstretched legs, cushioned by his thigh. Dean had crossed his ankles, humming or whistling some silly tune now and again, while Sam was reading a book Dean gifted him with.<p>

Dean was just finishing a yawn, his relaxed state turning to sleepiness, when he caught the book Sam was holding up on his chest dipping forward momentarily. When it righted itself quickly, Dean smirked. Sam was fighting his eyelids to close and his body to go limp. He sneaked a peek down to his face and saw the hazel-green eyes falling shut before opening again.

Dean stayed still, eyes pinned onto Sam, curious of what the boy was going to do. Sam shifted slightly, as if to wake himself up, but a couple seconds later the book started dipping forward again. A bigger, fluffy cloud interrupted the bright glow of the sun, a slight breeze fluttering the leaves of the tree, the only thing breaking the silence. By the time the light returned, the book was unstoppably leaning towards Sam's chest, while the boy's head rolled slowly to the side. His breaths came out even and deep and when the book reached his torso, the fingers slipped down slightly on its cover.

Dean grinned, pushing himself upright carefully. Sam's face was so peaceful, void of any worry lines and frowns, his brown tresses moving slightly in the breeze, shining in the sunlight. His lashes fluttered a little as his eyes moved some then any movement ceased to exist. Dean tenderly combed his fingers through Sam's hair, enjoying the sight of almost angelic peace in front of him, the reality shut out of their little bubble of happiness.

He decided to stay there for a few minutes, not having the heart to wake Sam up. However, only when Alex came out to the backyard did he look up.

"The Mistress wants to see you" Alex whispered, mindful about the napping Sam between them.

"I'll be right up." Alex nodded and turned back, but then with a smile he looked at Dean.

"You know that you're sitting here, watching him sleep, for a little over an hour now, do you?"

Dean's eyes widened in shock then he blushed, embarrassed.

"Shut up…" He only got an amused chuckle in reply.

Dean sighed. He didn't want to wake Sam up, when he was finally having a restful sleep. He stroked the boy's hair once more, before getting an idea. He slowly slipped out from under Sam's head, laying it gently onto the ground without stirring the boy. He then stood up, slid the book out of Sam's hands and laid it open onto the blanket. Crouching down next to him, he wrapped one arm behind his shoulders, lifting Sam up carefully, then slid the other arm beneath the slightly bent knees.

As he slowly straightened up, Sam began moving. Freezing in fear, Dean bit his lower lip, hoping he hadn't woken Sam up, but the boy just wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders and snuggled into his warmth with a sigh, his breath whooshing in and out against Dean's neck. Dean gently squeezed Sam's body with a smile before making his way towards the house. The door to the kitchen was open, as if someone knew he wanted to lay Sam into his own bed downstairs.

Every door leading to the servants' bedroom was open and the covers on the bed were pulled back. Dean lowered Sam down onto the cool mattress and tucked him in lovingly. He pressed a soft kiss onto the lax lips then another onto the smooth forehead. With a long caress through Sam's hair he left the room, pulling the door almost shut behind him.

* * *

><p>When Sam woke up in his bed, the sun was closer to the horizon than the last he remembered. He knew Dean must have brought him inside, and he was slightly disappointed that he wasn't awake for that. He stretched his limbs out before getting up, remembering that he had chores to continue. He slowly walked to the bathroom and got the laundry into the dryer, too lazy to take them out and hang them up.<p>

As the sky started darkening, the servants were asked to go into the Entrance Hall. Sam didn't understand why, but followed the others, thinking it must be important.

When he stepped into the room, he knew he was right. A couple of bags were gathered at the oak door and Ramon was putting another one next to them before stepping back. Alex and Mark stepped next to the man and Sam followed them. He frowned at the luggage pile. Was someone coming… or leaving?

"Are you sure you don't want to stay a few more days?" came Dean's voice behind them. Sam quickly glanced up his way, curious who Dean was talking to. So someone _was_ leaving!

"Yes, I have to take care of a few things" Sam felt saddened when he found out who was speaking. It was the Mistress… "But I think I'll come back after that, maybe even stay."

"You know I would love you to live here" Dean answered as the two reached the entrance door. "As long as you don't embarrass me."

"Oh, you…" Mary laughed, hitting her son's upper arm playfully, Dean smiling back. Mary then turned to the servants lined up next to the bags. She stepped to Ramon, pulling him down into a hug.

"We all would like you to come back" Ramon muttered into her shoulder and received a chuckle, the petite hand stroking his hair in a mothering way.

"Then I'll be sure to return, sweetie" Mary replied. "Don't lose hope…" Sam had a feeling that the Mistress was talking about something else, as well.

Next came Mark, who looked slightly upset. Mary hugged him tightly and Mark buried his face into her shoulder.

"Cheer up, baby…" Mary whispered, surprising Sam with the nickname. He remembered Mark's cut-off sentence when they had been talking in the backyard about Mary's arrival and Alex. He knew from that that something had happened in the past that made the Mistress grow closer to Mark. "I'll come back, I promise…"

Mark nodded into her shoulder and ducked his head to wipe his tears away when they broke apart. Mary stepped to the side and in front of Alex, who had tear tracks on his face. As soon as he was pulled into the motherly hug, though, sobs broke out of him.

"Shhh…" Mary soothed the distressed servant, who just cried into her shoulder. "Shh, sweetie… We'll see each other again, okay?" Alex nodded. He looked pretty heartbroken despite the anger before the Mistress' arrival days ago. Sam felt himself get choked up from the emotions running haywire in the room. Even Dean had to look away and clear his throat.

Finally, Sam's turn came. He leaned down and embraced the petite woman, fighting the urge to sob as the fingers ran through his hair.

"I'm going to miss you the most" Mary told him sadly. Sam couldn't stop the tears rolling down his cheeks at that, because the feeling was mutual.

"Me…" his breath hitched loudly, before he could continue. "Me, too…"

Mary pressed a kiss onto his temple, whispering into his ear:

"Welcome to the family, baby…"

Sam fisted Mary's blouse slightly before letting her go, nodding in reply, gratitude shining through his tears. Mary caressed his cheek with a sad smile. She returned to her son and pulled him down into a hug. Dean closed his eyes at the arms surrounding him, as if he was trying to memorize the feel of the motherly embrace. Sam wiped at his eyes, catching Mark comforting Alex, landing kisses onto the black tresses.

Mary must have told Dean something, because the man was nodding when he pulled away. Mary kissed her son's cheek tenderly then turned towards all of them.

"Alright, I must leave now" she spoke with a sad smile. "But don't get upset! I'll be back before you know it."

"Yes, miss" came the chorused reply from the servants, Alex's more hitched than Sam's. Mary nodded satisfied.

Ramon gathered the bags, Dean helping him and they carried them outside to the Impala. The two quickly packed everything into the car then Ramon got into the driver's seat and started the engine. Dean waved at his mother, the servants following his lead from the doorway when Mary waved to them. Soon the car disappeared through the gate, glinting in the afternoon sun.

* * *

><p>The house was a little dim, the occupants feeling sad from the departure of the Mistress. Ramon hasn't returned yet and the servants returned to their duties, while Dean spent his time in his room. A slight tension filled the mansion, ready to snap at any moment without anyone prepared for it. Sam hoped they could sleep this mood off without any problems.<p>

He was wrong.

As he placed the laundry basket into the bathroom, deciding to sort the freshly dried clothes tomorrow, he heard a pair of raised voices from behind. Frowning in worry, he turned around trying to listen. The voices were muffled even through the ajar door, but he knew they came from the kitchen, so he walked out silently to listen, ready to intervene if necessary.

"Don't you think that this is a little early?" Mark snapped out. What was he talking about?

"Look, I know that" Alex replied, trying to placate the other one's anger. "But we should maybe start thinking about it, so in the future we…"

"There's _nothing_ I have to think about" that one word was swimming in so much venom, Sam was surprised anyone listening was still alive.

"Please, just think this through" Alex pleaded. It must be something really important for him. Sam stopped just outside the door, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping.

"Drop it!" Mark cried out irritated.

"At least consider it!" Alex shouted, getting angry himself.

"NO!" Mark yelled back. "I'm not gonna tell you again! I don't and will never want ANY kids! Not now, not in the future! So LEAVE IT!"

Thick, heavy silence followed the screaming, only broken by the slam of a door. Sam lifted a hand to his mouth in horror. His heart broke at the harsh outburst. He knew Alex's dream was a family. To realize that the love of your life didn't want that…

A crash reverberated through the kitchen, yanking Sam out of his shock. He moved closer to the kitchen doorway and peeked around it. What he found was way more tragic than the revelation from earlier.

Shards of a white plate was scattered around on the tiles, glinting in the lamplight from above. Alex was sitting in the center, eyes huge and glassy, tears openly flowing down his cheeks. His mouth was slack as if Mark's words had frozen his mind. He didn't even notice the small cut on his ankle from one of the plate shards.

Sam stepped inside, creeping closer to his friend, careful about the sharp pieces around him. Alex didn't even acknowledge his presence. Sam kneeled down next to him. Alex must have collapsed from the shock, numb from that and devastation.

"Alex…" Sam whispered and the older servant jumped slightly, although he still hadn't turned to Sam. Sam couldn't watch his friend behave like this, so he laid a comforting hand on the trembling shoulder, hoping to snap him out of the daze. "Alex?" he tried again, his voice soft and slightly scared.

That did it.

A harsh sob shoved its way out of Alex's lungs, followed by more with such a force, even Sam's chest was hurting from it. He gathered the older servant into his arms and slid back to lean against the counter, arranging the smaller, almost seizing body on his lap and wrapping him in a strong, tight embrace. Alex's sobs were muffled by Sam's chest, one hand gripping at the boy's shirt. Sam laid his head onto the black tresses, rocking his distressed friend back and forth. He swallowed his own tears back, wanting to be strong for the broken servant.

For minutes the kitchen was filled only with the loud, heart-wrenching sobs. Sam didn't do anything, just stroked the heaving back and shoulders or combed his fingers through the black hair. He was swallowing against the knot that pulled the muscles in his throat almost completely shut. He couldn't imagine how he would feel after such cruel words. He would possibly be crushed, maybe even more like Alex right now… Although, listening to the sounds of agony, there was no way anyone could be more broken than Alex.

Watching the clock, just barely registering the time, the first sign of calming down came fifteen minutes later. Alex was now gasping in the air instead of panting it out in sobs. Sam didn't let up his ministrations, waiting for the real indication that he could let go. Another ten minutes had to pass for that sign to arrive.

Alex pushed himself up from Sam's chest, but stayed in the boy's lap. He was shakily wiping at the tears on his face.

"'B sorry…" he breathed out, nose stuffy, nodding at the stain on Sam's shirt.

"Don't be" Sam whispered back, pulling Alex in to land a kiss onto his friend's forehead.

"Don't leave me…" Alex whispered, his voice full of need and desperation. His hand released Sam's shirt, sliding down slowly.

"I won't" Sam replied firmly.

All of a sudden and completely out of the blue, Alex's trembling hand grabbed the back of Sam's neck and yanked him down. Sam's eyes widened at the feel of chapped lips on his own, a surprised grunt escaping him, when Alex's wandering hand slipped under his shirt, caressing his stomach. He grasped his friend's shoulder to push him away, trying to break the kiss, but Alex attacked his lips with his tongue, forcing his mouth open, while the hand under his shirt slipped up more, lifting the clothing.

Sam knew he should stop this madness, should push Alex away to avoid being caught like this… but Alex was so skilled by now in kissing… He used just the right amount of pressure, he had so much control that anyone would've turned their common sense off willingly… and he licked at the right places that Sam's brain was filling up with the haze of lust. He couldn't help but kiss back, eyes falling shut, their tongues tangling in a fight for dominance, as Sam tightened his arm around Alex, pulling him in even more, fingers dipping under the other's shirt.

Alex moaned quietly at Sam's touch and adjusted his hand on Sam's head, ruffling up the brown tresses. Sam's hand wandered up from Alex's shoulder onto his neck, cradling it tenderly. Neither of them was able to stop the kiss…

As Sam lifted up Alex's shirt, Alex broke the kiss at last and began biting his way down Sam's neck, kissing and licking the flushing skin. Sam gasped loudly at the sensation, all of this still new for him, just like for Alex…

"Mark…" Alex moaned lightly "and it was enough to snap Sam back to reality."

"Stop…" he gasped, trying to push Alex away, but his body was slow to respond. Alex continued on like he didn't hear Sam, his fingers on Sam's back caressing his spine. "No, Alex, stop…" Still nothing. Sam decided to go for the blow. "I'm not Mark…"

As soon as those words left his mouth, Alex froze completely. Seconds ticked by lasting hours before either of them moved. Alex leaned away, eyes wide and filled with horror, then his head fell forward, hand coming up to cover his eyes. Sam pulled his friend back into a hug, not able to bear the pain Alex was going through.

"I'm so sorry…" Alex muttered. "I don't know what came over me…"

"Let's just forget it!" Sam replied and got a nod in answer. "And anyway, you're upset. You weren't thinking straight." Another nod.

"Thank you, though" Alex breathed, voice barely audible. "I needed it…" And Sam knew he wasn't just referring to the comforting.

"You're welcome" he replied, because he would do it again… without losing himself into it, of course.

A few minutes later they were sitting at the table, Alex's sad, hurting gaze on the tabletop, Sam's worried one on his friend, when the door opened. Looking up, Sam's eyes narrowed in anger.

It was Mark.

"Can we talk?" the younger man asked, stepping to Alex. His expression was indifferent, but his eyes betrayed him: they were full of pain and regret. Alex looked mesmerized at the sight of the blue seas. "Alone?" Mark added, glancing fleetingly at Sam. After Alex's hesitant nod, Sam got to his feet and walked around the table to leave the kitchen. He paused behind Mark, hissing into his ear:

"Hurt him again and you'll regret it, you hear me?"

Mark nodded quickly, not taking his eyes off of Alex. Sam was barely satisfied with the answer, but he knew the two had to solve the issue without him. So, he left the room and walked upstairs after gathering his pajamas. He could shower in Dean's bathroom tonight.

* * *

><p>"What do you want?"<p>

Alex's dejected voice broke Mark's heart into bits and pieces. The shattered look accompanying it just tore them apart even more. With a sigh, Mark stepped to Alex's side and kneeled down to look into the downcast eyes.

"I'm so sorry" he whispered, regretting his outburst. Alex sent him an incredulous look. They stayed silent for a minute, Mark afraid of a bad reaction to his apology and Alex seemingly waiting for something. When neither of them spoke, Alex huffed in annoyance.

"Whatever" he sneered and pushed his chair back to stand up, but Mark's sudden grip on his arm stopped him. He tried to glare at him, but the younger man seemed to fight with his emotions. When Mark looked up, Alex blanched at the sight of tears gathering in the blue eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked, sliding down onto the floor, worried and scared.

"I'm such a fuck-up" Mark breathed, caressing Alex's cheek with trembling fingers.

"No, you're not-" Alex started, but Mark cut him off:

"I've hurt the person I love the most… I overreacted, and I'm so sorry… But you just didn't hear what I wanted to say to you."

"What do you mean?" Alex asked, now completely bewildered. "If it's about the kids, it doesn't matter. I didn't mean to have one right now."

"Alex, we can't have any kids" Mark spoke, voice soft, eyes tearful and apologetic. "I can't…"

"Yes, you can" Alex said, when Mark stopped with a gulp. "You'd be a great father." His assurance was met with a derisive, wet snort.

"What kind of a father destroys his kids' life before they're even born?" Mark asked, looking at the ground in shame. Alex flinched back in shock. What was-?

Then he got it.

"Listen to me" Alex started, voice shaking and grabbing Mark's head with both hands, directing the blue gaze to him. When the younger man looked up, he flinched at the lightning bolts in Alex's azure eyes. Anger caused the tremors in his words. "If you're saying what I think you're saying, you better forget about it before I smack it out of you."

"Alex-"

"I told you a hundred million times already" Alex raised his voice over Mark's words. "_I. Don't. Care. About. That._ We can deal with it. And what makes you think our kids are gonna have it?"

"Alex, we don't know anything about… this" Mark spoke again leaning back and ripping out of Alex's hold, one hand gesturing towards his head. "What if it's genetic? You want our kids to be as unstable as me? Is that what you want?"

"They won't be" Alex replied calmly, seeing the panic on Mark's face, the same panic he'd seen when he first brought up the topic of kids. "They're going to grow up in a loving family. If, and I repeat,_ IF_ they inherit this, they won't ever have to experience it."

"Okay, maybe you're right" Mark seemed very stubborn to find some excuse. "Maybe they won't be crazy." Alex flinched at that word and glared at the younger man. "What if I get a fit? What if I hurt them because of it?"

"You won't-"

"How the fuck do you know that?!"

Mark's shout cut through the air like a sharp knife through skin: it left a gaping, bleeding wound in the atmosphere. Alex sat frozen, face morphed into an expression of disbelief.

"You never hurt me…" he breathed softly. Mark just looked at him with wide eyes. "You're so worried of losing control when you're not aware… And you only hurt others when you're 'sane'" the last word was said in a scornful tone and with air-quotes.

"When will you get it that I'm a ticking bomb?" Mark asked, tears finally running down his face. "When will you realize that there's someone out there who could be perfect for you?"

"I don't want perfect" Alex answered. He reached up and pulled Mark into his arms. The younger man's head rested on his chest as Alex caressed the blond tresses. "Perfect is overrated. I only want you. When will you get _that?"_

Alex felt his shirt dampen under Mark's cheek leaning against him. He pressed a soothing kiss onto the blond head then leaving his lips there he began shushing his lover. Mark fisted the back of Alex's shirt desperately, body shaking with silent sobs.

"I love you so much…" Mark burst out, tightening his hold on Alex's torso. Alex returned the hold as he whispered:

"I love you, too…"

Mark straightened up, tenderly cradling Alex's jaw with both hands, then pressed a gentle, loving kiss onto the other's lips. Alex sighed in relief as his body slumped a little in relief and he grasped Mark's biceps to keep himself upright. Pulling away, Mark leaned his forehead against his lover's for a minute, gathering strength, then with a deep breath he leaned away, got to his feet and pulled Alex up by the hand.

"Let's go to bed" he said, wrapping an arm around the other man's waist. Alex nodded and they walked to the bedroom to finish this exhausting night. As Alex began drifting off to sleep, his lover's arms around him, he thought he heard Mark whisper:

"I'd like to have kids with you, too… Someday…"

* * *

><p>"What is it?"<p>

The silence in the dark bedroom was broken by Dean's voice. He and Sam were lying in the bed, Sam lying in Dean's arms, head resting on the man's chest, listening to the soothing beat of the other's heart. Sam had been gazing into nothingness, worry keeping him tense and mostly frozen, not even Dean's caresses on his back were helping now.

Sam jumped at Dean's voice and looked up with wide eyes. Dean had a worried frown on his face, eyes searching for anything that would give Sam's gloomy mood away. The boy sighed, his body slumping against Dean's, knowing he couldn't rest until he talked to Dean.

"I… I don't suppose you heard what happened" Sam started, tone cautious.

"I did" Dean answered. "But when I got downstairs, you were already taking care of it, so I left you alone. Is Alex okay, by the way?"

Sam swallowed. Dean had been downstairs? How lucky Sam could be that Dean hadn't seen everything?

"I hope he's fine" Sam said, knowing his voice was a little strained. He hoped that Dean would take it as worry trying to be disguised. It seemed to work.

"So?"

"Mark and Alex got into a fight… verbal, luckily… And I'm just… The cause of it struck home pretty hard, you know?"

"What were they fighting about?" Dean asked worry increased and maybe joined by wariness. Sam swallowed again, this time from nerves, though. Would he get the same answer as Alex from Mark? Would Dean blow up on him? He told Sam that he wanted a family… Then would he take this as an attack or something if Sam brought it up?

"Sam, what was it?" Dean insisted and Sam knew he had to share with the class, no matter what.

"Having children…" he murmured, eyes closing, bracing himself for the blow. After a few seconds passing by with Dean registering the answer and all of its hidden meanings, the man finally sighed.

"And now you're worried what I would think if this came up" Dean said, mostly to himself apparently. Sam nodded anyway. Gentle fingers grasped Sam's chin and guided his gaze upwards and to Dean's. "Then I want you to know that my dream is having a family… You carrying my children, you being their mother… I want at least three kids, just so you know…"

Sam felt such an amount of relief, that it pushed a sigh of laughter out of him, needing space. Dean hugged him tightly, leaning his head against Sam's.

"I was so stupid to think that…" Sam exhaled, but he was cut off by a firm kiss that messaged him love and hope for their future.

* * *

><p>The back of a finger caressed his cheek lovingly, the movement slow and the touch tender. Sam's lips curved up in a small smile, as he recognized Dean and he opened his eyes to look into his handsome features and jade-green eyes. Dean gave him his own smile that Sam was attracted to like a bee to a flower. Sam caressed Dean's jaw with his fingertips, hoping to lure the man closer. Dean's smile widened slightly as he leaned forward, pressing his lips to Sam's, sucking the boy's lower lip in between his. Sam's hand laid out flat on the man's cheek as he responded leisurely.<p>

Sam lost track of time as he closed his eyes to enjoy the sensations even more. He felt Dean's fingers drawing a path down his neck, the touch tingling and soft. As they reached Sam's chest, Dean tilted his head to the side slightly and pressed his lips more firmly onto the boy's. Sam's head was pushed into his pillow a little as Dean leaned into him and delved deeper into his mouth, mapping it out with his tongue. The boy's other hand found its way onto Dean's arm and snaked up the soft skin and hard muscles to grip at the man's bicep.

Dean finally let Sam draw in a breath as he tore himself away from the other's mouth and nipped at his jaw. Sam gasped in some needed oxygen as he turned his head to give Dean space when the man made his way onto his neck. Dean licked gently at a tendon that rose out when Sam moved his head before searching out and latching onto the pulse point, sucking a purple bruise onto it in the rhythm of its beat. The hand on Sam's chest moved lower, the thumb sliding over a nipple, making Sam's breath hitch at the sensation.

At last, satisfied by the mark on the paler but still tan skin, Dean slid his lips over Sam's skin, pressing kisses onto it, as he moved his treatment onto Sam's chest and pecs. His hand slid down further, caressing Sam's abs reverently, at last drawing out the much anticipated moan of pleasure from the boy's lungs. Sam lifted himself up to feel more of the touch, pushing his head back into the pillow even more, as he kept a tight hold on Dean's arm and shoulder. He wanted Dean to hurry up and _touch him!_

After a seemingly long wait, Dean's fingers dipped under the thin sheet covering Sam loins _and…_

A shrill sound interrupted Sam's dream, making him groan petulantly. He just wanted to get the pictures back and not to return to reality. However, his mind was stubbornly hiding his dream, forcing him to open his eyes.

By the time he reached semi-wakefulness, the ringing died down. When he opened his eyes, he saw Dean buttoning his shirt up and shrugging on his leather jacket. Sam's bleary gaze slid onto the clock on the nightstand and he sighed at the numbers:

_6:43_

His head flopped down and his eyes closed on their own accord. Next thing he registered was the fingers combing through his messy hair. He looked up with great effort and gazed into Dean's apologetic eyes.

"Shou'n' th's be th'ther way'roun'?" Sam slurred, already halfway to drifting off. Dean huffed at the boy's drawn out words, smiling in amusement.

"Sorry, but I need to go" Dean whispered. "Just wanted to tell you that I might only be back in the evening."

"Wha'?" Sam woke up some more, lifting his head up to better look at Dean. "Wha' happ'n'd?"

"Urgent matter" Dean answered, his expression serious and… angry… The same as back when Sam was beaten by Marston…

"'Kay" Sam muttered, lying back down and closing his eyes. Dean will fix whatever needs fixing.

"Rest as long as you want" the man continued. "You don't have to do your chores today."

"'K'y" Sam replied into the pillow, only barely registering Dean's words. He thought he heard another huff of laughter, although he definitely felt the gentle press of full lips on his head. With that, he sank back into blissful darkness, searching for and hoping to find his dream again.

* * *

><p>Sam was lying on the couch, flipping the channels on the TV. He was bored out of his mind. Dean let him take a day off, since there weren't any major events to prepare for and the usual chores aren't that mandatory. Sam had swept the porch just for the sake of his own satisfaction: the wind had blown some dry leaves onto it and it bugged him. He had done that, though, quite late in the morning, using the opportunity to lie around and sleep in as long as he wanted.<p>

Now, however, he had no clue what to do. He wasn't in the mood to read, he didn't know if he could browse the web on Dean's laptop and he couldn't find a decent channel to watch on the TV…

And, frankly, he was just plain missing Dean.

With a sigh, he turned the TV off then startled when Alex plopped himself down onto the couch… and Sam's legs.

"Hi" Alex greeted him with a knowing smirk.

"Hey. Everything okay?"

"Yep."

A pause…

"Come on" Sam whined a little, nudging Alex with his toes. "I was worried. And I hate awkward small talk."

"What was awkward about ours?" Alex asked raising an eyebrow, but his smile stayed the same. Sam just rolled his eyes. "Mark and I discussed our issue through and through and we're fine now."

"Good" Sam nodded, feeling that weight evaporate from his shoulder.

"Sorry" Alex added sheepishly. Sam needed a couple seconds to realize what he meant.

"Shut up" he said, shoving Alex playfully in the shoulder with his foot he extricated from under the young man. "You know I'd do it again. You needed it."

"That's so noble of you" Alex teased but Sam heard the genuineness in his voice. He just shrugged then Alex changed the subject. "Bored?"

"Out of my mind" Sam sighed woefully, his heart aching from missing Dean. Alex jumped up and walked to the bookshelves, examining the books. Sam turned his eyes onto the window and the outside world he could see through it, allowing his gaze to grow distant so he could listen for the telltale purr of the Impala.

Minutes, maybe even hours walked past him when something solid and a little heavy landed on his chest. He almost jumped out of his skin from the sudden interruption. He quickly snatched his hand to the object before it could slip off of him then lifted it up. It was a romance book from an author he didn't recognize.

"It's pretty good" Alex noted, nodding at the book. "You can learn quite a few things from there." Sam blushed at the implication and suddenly found the spirit to read something.

"Alex" came a voice from the bedroom door. When Sam sat up, he caught Mark standing there, blue eyes widening at the sight of him. "O-oh" Sam would've thought the young man was wary of him if not for the slowly spreading flush on his cheeks. "You know that thing we talked about?" he finally said, returning to Alex.

"Oh" Alex replied, comprehension dawning on his features. "Yes, let's go. Have a good read, Sam." With that, Alex joined Mark in the doorway and the two left a confused Sam behind. Curious, though, Sam leapt to his feet, practically vaulting over the couch, and cautiously peeked around the closed wing of the door. What he saw made him blush.

Mark was just yanking Alex up into his arms, their lips locked firmly to each other. Alex had a hand gripping Mark's blonde locks, while Mark kept a hand on Alex's backside as he walked towards a bedroom farthest from the Master's bedroom, where Sam wouldn't be able to hear them.

Reading that book seemed more and more of a good idea to Sam.

* * *

><p>The afternoon found the servants in the kitchen, Sam washing the dishes, Alex putting them away and Mark keeping them company. They tried to entertain themselves while waiting for the return of Ramon and Dean, and Mark did quite a good job to avert Sam's attention from the absence of the Master.<p>

"So?" Sam asked Alex when Mark left the room briefly. The curiosity was slowly killing him. Alex flushed the deepest shade of red that was humanly possible. "You did it?" Sam was shocked. "In a guest room?"

"No" Alex replied heatedly but still keeping his voice down. "I-I… I panicked. It wasn't the right time." Sam nodded, knowing how Alex must have felt. "And he's cautious, as well. It's… difficult for him, so…"

"He didn't mind" Sam finished, receiving a nod in reply. That was when Mark returned.

When the darkness slowly crept in, Sam was lying on his bed downstairs, reading the book Alex had given him. It was interesting in every way possible and he couldn't put it down easily. He was so engrossed in it, he didn't hear the long-awaited purr filter in through the windows.

"Ramon?" he suddenly heard, his heart leaping into his throat. They were back? "Ramon, what's wrong?" Alex sounded scared. Sam immediately jumped up, throwing his book on the nightstand and running into the kitchen. Did something happen to Dean, maybe?

When he rushed through the door, he caught Ramon sitting at the kitchen table, his head in his hands. Alex was next to him rubbing the man's shoulders. As Ramon looked up, his dark eyes landed on Sam, who could see something had shaken the older man up.

"M-Master is waiting for you" Ramon spoke, his voice trembling. "In the Entrance Hall." Sam nodded then took off, just shy of running.

Dean was standing in front of the staircase, his arms folded across his chest. Judging by the straight back, the lowered head and the murderous gaze staring into nothing, Sam took a guess that he was enraged. He cautiously approached the man, fearing the man would lash out at the first person he meets.

"You wanted to see me, s-sir?" Sam murmured just loud enough to be heard. He crossed his wrists in front of him and threaded his fingers, lowering his head in submission. He caught Dean's startle as the man turned towards him. A calloused hand cupped Sam's cheek, lifting his gaze up, while the other untangled his hands.

"Don't" Dean said, apology shining in his eyes. "You never have to be afraid of me. Not anymore." Sam nodded, swallowing his fear with some difficulty. Dean lowered his hand with a sigh then turned back towards the entrance door. "I need you to take care of someone."

"What? Me?" Sam asked surprised.

"You still know what it's like to be in a new place" Dean answered with a nod. "In every way possible." Sam understood what Dean was trying to say. The memories of being snatched from his home and thrust into a new one, while at the same time being yanked out of his social status and shoved into a lower one were still very vivid and painful in his mind, but he had to push those down now. Dean and someone else needed him.

At that moment Mark appeared at the doorway. He looked back and gently led a young man through. The newcomer was a little shorter than Sam but probably the same age. He only had sweatpants on, so he probably came from an institution. His shaggy brown hair was in disheveled curls and his pale skin was showing a couple of bruises and some bones sticking out. Sam felt sick from the possible treatment that resulted in this sight of the poor servant.

When the two reached them, Sam caught a flash of green eyes before the young man threw himself down onto his knees and elbows, lowering his head. Sam's jaw dropped when his back was revealed: now he realized why this boy showed such an extreme behavior towards a Master. Angry red welts covered the pale skin, coming from either a whip or a switch. That sign of abuse explained why the boy looked so starved.

Sam glanced at Dean and could barely hold back a flinch at the dark look the man had in his eyes. He knew, though, from experience that Dean wasn't angry at the servant but _for_ the servant.

"Take care of him" Dean threw Sam's way before storming up the steps and retreating to his bedroom. The door slammed shut with an echoing bang. Mark, looking devastated and mirroring Sam's feelings, left Sam with the servant, disappearing in the servant's quarters. Sam felt awkward for a minute as he watched the boy sit up with shaky limbs, a drop of liquid landing on the tile of the floor. His heart was twisted in the vice clamping around it. How much luck had separated him from a fate like this?

Sam kneeled down in front of the servant slowly, not wanting to spook him. The boy was still shaking in fear, not that different from Sam's own reaction when he had arrived into reality.

"Hey" Sam whispered kindly and the boy startled, looking up at him briefly. "I'm Sam" he continued, holding out a hand to be shaken. He waited with baited breath for the boy to react. It took a minute for a trembling hand to wrap around his and pump it for a fraction. "What's your name?" The boy swallowed convulsively before stuttering out a response:

"C-C-Chris…"

"Nice to meet you" Sam squeezed the other's hand a little before letting it go. Chris mumbled out a "You, too…" in response. "Come on" Sam said, standing up. Reaching down, he helped the boy to his feet, his heart lurching at the flinch from his touch. "Let's get you cleaned up, okay?"

As they made their way to the servant's quarter, Sam slid an arm around Chris' shoulders. The boy glanced at him in a strange way, before leaning against him. By the time the door closed behind them, the thin body sagged a little from exhaustion, so Sam decided on a bath instead of a shower.

While the water was running, Sam examined the boy's back. The welts looked angry red and when he touched them gently, Chris gasped out a whimper. They seemed fresh.

"Who did this to you?" Sam asked, trying to keep the horror out of his voice.

"My previous Master" Chris answered.

"What? Why?" Chris looked up, when this time the horror escaped along Sam's words.

"I was punished." The statement was said so indifferently, as if it was a fact. Sam swallowed against the tears gathering in his eyes. Was this poor boy whipped daily? To hide his emotions, Sam returned to fuss about the bath. He put in some bath gel, hoping the scent will relax Chris.

"Here you go" Sam turned back to Chris after he shut the water off. He plastered a kind smile onto his face and his spirit lightened when Chris blushed shyly. "I'll leave you to clean up then come back to treat your back. Is that okay with you?

"Y-Yes…" Chris sounded shocked at Sam's kindness. Before Sam stepped out of the bathroom, he heard a soft, timid:

"Thank you, Sam…"

He looked over his shoulder, this time with a real smile on his face.

"You're welcome."

* * *

><p>It took Chris a couple of seconds to move, he was in such a shock. The guy taking care of him, Sam, was so kind and tender with him, as if he was handling a… a terrified little bird. It felt so weird… and great… He could only barely remember tenderness from before… before his previous Master…<p>

With a sigh, he let the pants slide down his legs then he gingerly sank into the warm, soothing water, even more cautious as his back dipped into the liquid. He had to let pass a couple gasps of pain, despite the mental barrier he spent years building up. He couldn't help it: this place felt so much freer… Even his new Master was kind to him. Maybe this will be a change for the better…

As the pain became bearable, Chris slowly slid down until he was almost completely underwater, his head resting on the edge of the tub. A good long soak always helped with the welts…

He hoped Sam would take his time, wherever he was…

* * *

><p>Sam walked through the kitchen, only stopping to nod encouragingly at the others gathered in there. Alex told him they heard some noises upstairs, but Sam had already had a feeling something would happen. He took the steps two at a time and hurried to the back door of Dean's bedroom. He contemplated for a second whether to knock or not, but then he decided against it. When he opened the door, his jaw dropped from the sight.<p>

The only light in the room was from the desk lamp, which was lying on the floor a couple feet from its place. Its rays gave the room a gloomy tone. Papers and pens were scattered around on the carpet and an armchair was lying on its side, possibly tipped over by a furious kick. This wasn't the more worrying sign, though.

Dean was standing at his desk, hands leaning onto the table. He was only in his T-shirt and jeans; Sam found the rest of his clothing and his shoes all over the room, evidence of the rage that left the tension behind. The man's shoulders were still heaving as he panted like a fuming dragon. His head was lowered, but his whole body was wound up tight, ready to snap at anything, or anyone, daring to interrupt his wrath.

Sam knew he had to risk it. He slowly tiptoed closer, right behind Dean. The man's fingers twitched menacingly but then he relaxed slightly. Sam took that as a sign that he could tread further, so he laid a cautious hand onto Dean's shoulder. The hard muscles were so tight they trembled constantly. Sam's heart broke from how upset Dean was, but at the same time it soared from the amount of compassion the man was showing towards the new servant. He curled his fingers around the shoulder and turned Dean towards him, right into a loving hug. He held on, rubbing the stiff back to coax out a response…

… and finally received it: Dean leaned into him, wrapping his arms around Sam's waist and burying his face into the boy's shoulder. Sam pulled him in even tighter, his free hand taking over the rubbing while the other rested on the blonde tresses, thumb caressing them. Dean let out a sigh into Sam's neck, soaking in the strength emanating from his servant and feeling quite proud of him because of it. Sam leaned his head against Dean's, starting a slow, side-to-side rocking, humming softly and timidly the lullaby his mother used to play for him. The desired effect came instantaneously: Dean's body sagged completely, just riding with the motions. His instinctive comforting method surprised Sam: he blamed his 'feminine intuitions' for it. At least something good came out of his difference…

After a few minutes, Dean pulled back, reluctantly breaking the trance they lulled themselves into. He wiped at his face and Sam had a suspicion that he was erasing the traces of the emotional rollercoaster he had just ridden. Sam stayed in his place, waiting patiently for the man to gather himself. He only realized his submission breaking out, when Dean lifted his head and untangled his hands, the second time that night.

"Chris?" Dean's voice was hoarse and exhaustion was pouring out of him in tsunamis.

"Having a bath" Sam replied softly, eyes raking over the worn features of his lover. Dean nodded, seemingly satisfied with Sam's decision.

"You're staying with him?" It was more a statement than a question, but Sam nodded anyway.

"I should. For a while…"

He was cut off by Dean's full lips descending onto his for a reassuring, yet longing kiss. Sam leaned into it, but it was over too soon.

"Go. I'll miss you…"

"Me, too…" Sam breathed back then left the room with one last look of reluctance over his shoulders.

Chris was already in a towel after his bath, holding the pair of worn sweatpants, when Sam returned with fresh clothes. Chris dressed up silently, while Sam gathered the necessities to treat the boy's back. Either the soak helped, or he was too used to it, but Chris never uttered a sound while Sam was treating his wounds, only grabbing the edge of the sink and squeezing it when the pain was too much. Sam smiled at the boy proudly when he finished, drawing another shy blush onto Chris' cheeks. He must be really unaccustomed to someone's help and kindness.

"Come on" Sam spoke, facing Chris, who had put on the shirt brought to him. "I'm sure you're tired. Tomorrow I or Ramon will show you around. You wanna meet the others?"

"N-No" Chris shook his head, terror flitting across his features. Sam knew perfectly well how he was feeling. "I-I'm tired. Is it okay if I go to b-bed?"

"Of course" Sam answered with a smile and waved the boy closer. Together they walked to the bedroom, where Sam sat Chris onto his old bed. Since there were only four in there, Sam decided to make a sacrifice.

"I don't want to take anyone's space away" Chris mumbled timidly, noticing the shortage of beds.

"Don't worry about that" Sam replied. He had a feeling everyone will have room to sleep in. "We'll be fine. You getting used to everything here is more important. Did they tell you what you'll have to do?"

"I can help with anything" Chris shrugged as he lay down on the mattress, shimmying under the covers. The window was open so the last traces of summer heat could be replaced with cool breezes bringing relief.

"Then Master will give you instructions tomorrow. Just try to sleep."

"Can you s-s-stay?" Chris asked, a slight desperation sneaking into his voice. Right then, Sam witnessed the emotional and mental impact on the poor boy that the previous, cruel treatment caused. Feeling a strange urge to cradle the servant in his arms, he took a seat on the edge of the bed and laid a hand onto Chris' head, caressing the dark curls tenderly. Now he knew how Alex felt when the young man would comfort Sam.

"I'm here" Sam whispered as the boy shifted closer to him, seeking comfort. "Go to sleep."

And he stayed in his place, until the trembling fingers uncurled from around the fabric of his sweatpants.

* * *

><p>The early birds started waking up, their lazy chirps flitting into the mansion's rooms through the glasses of the closed windows. Sam stretched his limbs as he rose from his sleep, looking around in a slight daze. He saw the other servants still wandering their dreams, but he noticed Ramon's lack of snoring. The man must be tense and anxious, leaving his night restless. Mark and Alex were sharing a bed, slumbering in the comfort of each other's arms. The two had decided last night to use Mark's bed until Sam chose to return to Dean. However, that couldn't happen until their new resident settled into the life here.<p>

Chris was now relaxed and deeply submerged in the ocean of dreams. In the middle of the night, he had startled awake with a gasp and shot up ramrod straight, sweating profusely. Sam had immediately jumped out of his bed and joined him, pulling the frightened boy into his arms, glad that Chris had instantly melted into his embrace, accepting the offer of comfort.

Sam was sitting on the bed ever since, guarding the boy's dreams against nightmares. One hand was stroking the dark-brown curls, keeping Chris calm with his soothing touches. He surprised himself with the motherly instincts that so readily broke free inside him. He already knew he was going to be the one to introduce Chris to the chores of servants and help the newbie to get used to the pace and order of things around here.

His thoughts stirred up by now, Sam slid carefully out from underneath Chris' head, which was resting on his thigh. The boy didn't react to the movements, releasing a sigh of relief from Sam's lungs. Sam snuck out of the room, fetching his towel and clothes to have a quick shower. When he returned to the bedroom to make the beds, he caught Chris blinking blearily as the boy pushed up onto his elbows.

"Morning, Chris" Sam greeted him, sitting onto the edge of the boy's bed.

"Morning, Sam" Chris' answer was shy and soft, as if uncertain how to react to the other's greeting and general kindness.

"Did you sleep well?" Sam queried, barely able to conceal his worry. Chris blushed, though, and his expression was oozing guilt and shame. "Hey, it's okay" Sam rubbed the boy's shoulder comfortingly. "I know how rough it can get."

"Do you?" The flush now meant anger as the green eyes glittered with frustration.

"Not the same way, but yes" Sam answered with all honesty, shocking the fury out of Chris. "We had different lives, however, the change can take a great toll on you. You're still taking things better than I did. I wish I could have just nightmares."

"When did you get here?" Chris asked, showing genuine interest and curiosity for Sam's story.

"This summer."

"And where have you served before?"

"Nowhere." Chris's eyes widened. Sam frowned at the expression of realization on the boy's face.

"Oh, I see" the boy murmured. "It must've been rough for you, being yanked from a mansion into the lowest class of the population." Sam was stunned speechless. How did he…?

"How did you know I lived in a mansion?"

"Well, you're clearly upper-class" Sam would've taken the nonchalant response as an offense if not for the indifferent, almost innocent tone of Chris' voice. The boy must've realized how his words sounded, though, because he rushed to explain himself. "You're really educated and proper. Your hand is softer than a regular servant's, not as hardened by work. Yet, you're still on the same level as an average person, you don't act all high-and-mighty, like you're better than others. You even helped me…"

Now it was Sam's turn to blush. Chris observed a lot of things just from their brief contact, some of them surprising, since Sam never would've thought it fit him.

"What about you?" he changed the subject quickly, not liking the glaring spotlight of their conversation.

"I was serving since I was eleven. My parents didn't dare to hide me, they're not that… well-off, see?" Sam nodded, feeling sad for Chris. Who knew what his father would've gone through if they were not upper-class? "I wasn't really liked by any of my Masters, but they took good care of me… except the last one."

Tears gathered in the round eyes as Chris walked down memory lane. Sam just wanted to stop him, gather him in his arms and comfort him, but Chris soldiered on.

"My Mistress was a hateful old woman" the boy hissed angrily. "I was punished regularly because I was a Different One. I was whipped every time my difference showed. I'm like you, before you ask" Sam nodded. Inwardly, he was mortified. Being beaten every month for a week is cruel. "It went on for two years."

Sam couldn't resist now: he grabbed Chris' arm and pulled the poor boy into a tight hug. Chris once again melted into his embrace, wrapping his arms around Sam firmly. As the boy hid his face into the crook of Sam's neck, Sam lifted a hand and began caressing the brown curls instinctively.

"I'm so sorry" he breathed, leaning his cheek onto the top of Chris' head. "But it's gonna get better now. I promise… Our Master, Dean is very gentle and he cares greatly for us. You'll see…"

It took a few minutes for them to separate then as Chris turned away to wipe the traces of his distress away, Sam returned to his previous task of making the bed, while Chris got up and left the room.

* * *

><p>Sam decided to show Chris around the mansion before introducing him to anyone. The boy looked the place over with wide eyes, as if he had never seen anything so grandiose before. The tour didn't take long: by the time they finished, Alex called them to eat breakfast. When the two stepped into the kitchen, everyone else was already sitting around the table. Two empty seats had meals waiting to be eaten.<p>

"Morning, everyone" Sam greeted the others with a smile, wrapping an arm around Chris' shoulders. The boy blushed as the attention centered on him, but mustered up a shy smile. "This is Chris, our newest colleague. Chris, this is Alex, our cook" Alex waved with a gentle smile when Sam pointed him out, "that's Mark, the gardener" Mark nodded with a grin then took the next bite out of his meal, "and that's Ramon, our… "boss" so to speak" Sam made some air-quotes with a teasing grin and Ramon rolled his eyes with a smirk.

"More like manager of this place" the older man murmured, returning to his breakfast. Everyone chuckled, not noticing the slightly dazed look in Chris' eyes at Ramon's voice.

"And what do you do?" the boy asked Sam after he shook himself out of the haze.

"I clean the whole mansion."

"Which means you need to get some fuel" Alex joined in, pointing at the empty seats. "So eat up!"

"Yes, ma'am" Sam sat into the chair closest to the other servants with a small salute, and Chris sat next to him. As the boy started eating, Alex sought out Sam's gaze, a knowing smirk his response to Sam's cheerful mood. He realized that Sam was putting effort into the good mood so Chris wouldn't be afraid.

"Did you maybe get the dining room ready for the Master's breakfast?" Sam asked.

"I did" Mark spoke around his mouthful. "Since I've done it before and you're a little busy today." Chris blushed instantly, knowing they were talking about him.

"You know" Ramon said, eyes on the youngest, "with the rate you're going, it's a miracle you have blood in your body outside of your cheeks." His teasing drew quiet laughter out of the others, even yanking a surprised chuckle from Chris, as well.

"Sorry" the boy replied, smiling timidly, finally raising his eyes onto the others. "Just everything is new and…"

"I was just joking, it's okay" Ramon waved, grinning with satisfaction. The rest of the meal was spent with small talks, Chris staying silent and just observing the others curiously. When everyone finished, Sam gathered the plates to wash them. He nearly jumped when Chris shot to his feet to help, eager and ready, although Sam saw the nervousness appearing fleetingly on his features from the prospect of being left alone with yet-strangers.

Just as they finished with the dishes, Alex returned from the dining room and informed them that Dean was waiting to be officially introduced to the new servant. Sam walked Chris through the back hallway to the dining room, thrilled to see Dean after a lonely night. He squeezed the other's shoulder encouragingly before stepping in.

Dean was in the same place where Sam remembered him sitting on his first day. The man was had just finished his meal and looking up, he stood to receive the servants, a gentle smile gracing his lips. His eyes flashed with longing as they raked over Sam then settled upon Chris, who had his head lowered in respect of his superior.

"Good morning, sir" Sam greeted Dean, wrapping an arm around Chris' waist, making him step forward. – This is Chris.

"Christian or Christopher?" Dean queried in curiosity.

"Christopher, Master" Chris answered with a small bow.

"Sir is fine, Chris" Dean said, but shook his head when Sam straightened slightly with a satisfied grin. _'But I get to call you Dean'_ Sam thought. "Master is only in front of the guests, alright?"

"If you wish, sir" Chris replied smoothly, bowing again.

"Great. Your job will be helping Sam in cleaning the mansion. Sometimes Ramon will ask your help in repairing something, but your main task is cleaning." Sam's eyes widened at that. He felt a little sad at giving up some of his chores to someone else, since he enjoyed his work as it made time pass quickly, but the upside was that he will have more time to spend with Dean. "Sam will explain the daily routine then you can agree on dividing up the workload. It's okay if you don't do too much or laze around the house. There's no curfew, but servants usually get up at seven in the morning. I only ask that after I retire for the evening, try to keep the noise down, alright?"

"Yes, sir."

"Oh" Dean added quickly, "I prefer no smoking around here. Will that be a problem?" Sam flinched as the memory of those days replayed in his mind.

"No, sir. I don't smoke."

"Well then, welcome to my home and I hope you'll fit in with the others easily."

"Thank you, sir."

"Could you wait for Sam in the kitchen?" Dean asked. "I need to speak with him."

"Yes, sir" Chris bowed again and left the room. As soon as the door shut behind him, Dean pulled Sam into his arms, holding him tightly.

"I'm so sorry, baby" he breathed into Sam's ear, who in turn buried his face into Dean's shoulder. "I'll never forgive myself for what I did to you back then. You didn't deserve it. But I'm grateful you gave it up for me." Sam was clutching at Dean's shirt, reveling in the comfort of Dean's arms. After a few minutes, Sam pulled away, leaning his forehead against Dean's.

"I'm sorry, too" Sam replied then pressed a chaste kiss onto the man's lips. With that they parted and Sam followed Chris, inwardly planning out the day to explain the younger servant the chores.

_TBC..._

* * *

><p><strong>H-Hi, guys!<strong>

**After such a long chapter you can't be mad at me... right?**

**Anyway, hope you liked this chappy. I'm proud of Sammy for being so strong in here. I didn't want him to remain so fragile... for now, at least. :D *cue evil laugh***

**I also hope you'll get a notification, but I'll try to contact someone to inform me of the alert-situation.**

**Hope to see you soon...er! I have something in my head that doesn't want to leave me, but I'm working on emptying my thoughts so I can focus on my in-progress stories.**

**See you next time!**


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